


Best Laid Game Plans

by shortstackedcheesecake96



Category: South Park
Genre: American Football, Family Issues, Friends With Benefits, M/M, Workplace Relationship, football au
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-27
Updated: 2018-10-13
Packaged: 2019-04-28 19:08:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 41,673
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14455848
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shortstackedcheesecake96/pseuds/shortstackedcheesecake96
Summary: After his father steps down, Kyle becomes the owner of the Denver Mustangs football team. But that's not the only change, as Eric Cartman is also a new signing for the Mustangs. Kyle is sceptical about his new player, despite his impressive stats and undeniable charm. Can Kyle guide the team to victory, fulfil his legacy, and navigate his growing feelings for Eric?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> It feels so great to be working on another multi-chapter again, especially since this is an idea I've essentially been developing for nearly two years (mainly in note-taking and daydreaming, tbh, pfft!). A lot of this is inspired by the movie 'Any Given Sunday', and that movie was a great resource for what kind of emotional storylines I could explore, as well as giving me a starting point for research. Still, the movie is obviously dramatised, and so a lot more background reading was required. I guess that's my little disclaimer. Another thing I love about 'Any Given Sunday' is the alternative names for all the football teams, and I decided to try it out in this fic so the AU is immersive as possible. Plus, coming up with team names was so much fun! Enough of my rambling, I'd love to hear what you guys think in the reviews! Thank you so much for reading, and I hope you enjoy!

Driving down that familiar stretch of freeway to his parents' house, Kyle was happy to see what was undoubtedly the most chaotic and stressful summer of his life dim into a promising Fall evening. The blue Denver sky was fading and the setting sun was flooding his car. He pulled the visor over his windscreen, just as the soft music coming from his radio was instead replaced by ringing. Glancing at the screen, he saw it was Jimmy. It felt like he had been talking to the press all summer; deflecting their attention away from his father when the story originally broke; facing the heady rush of press coverage head on when burying their heads in the sand was no longer an option - and practiced statements from their PR agent was; and, finally, courting them when good news was finally on the horizon and Kyle had been pushed from the wings and into the spotlight. Still, witty, amiable, and honest, Jimmy was the one journalist whose company Kyle always felt at ease in. And while Jimmy was no stranger to criticising the performance of the Denver Mustangs, he had also been quick to dispense valuable advice when the pressure of Kyle's situation became almost as unbearable as the summer heat.

"Hey, Jimmy."

"Hey, mister eh-eh- _ehh-_ AFA Digest! Nice cover!"

Kyle laughed, heat crawling up his throat even though he was the only one in the car. He supposed he would have to shake this feeling of embarrassment at being in the limelight now that he was just another owner up for scrutiny. It wouldn't be all glossy magazine covers, and full-page spreads praising him for representing a new, fresh start for his team. He needed to enjoy it while he still could.

"Thanks," he replied. "It's great how they managed to entirely airbrush the anxiety off my face."

They wanted to capture the new youthful energy and vibrancy Kyle was going to bring to the team in the cover. So they shot him wearing a pair of dark blue jeans, a Mustangs jersey, with his hands in his pockets and a football tucked under his arm, looking way more relaxed than he actually felt.

"The interview was good, right?" Kyle asked. "In your professional opinion?"

"Wuh-wuh-well I, I, was a little uh-uhf- _uhf_ -offended that we didn't get the full scoop."

Kyle smiled, and rolled his eyes.

"But it was f-f-f-fantastic. How does it feel to be the youngest owner in the uh-uh- _uhhh_ \- association?"

This must have been the sixth time Kyle had been asked that question since the announcement was made. Journalists and photographers had barked it at him when he left the Mustangs HQ, his fellow owners had asked him with wide, patronising smiles during conference calls, and he had in fact been asked it during his interview in  _AFA Digest_. His responses had differed, but all were buoyed with brisk optimism and poise. Alone in his car, with his friend on the line, Kyle's shoulders sagged and he sighed.

"To be honest, it hasn't sunk in yet. I haven't celebrated at all. I mean, the circumstances aren't wonderful..."

"I get that," Jimmy assured. "But with the season around the corner this is your chance to tuh-tuh-  _tuuuh_ \- turn it all around."

"I guess. Got any advice for me?"

"Hmm... d-d-don't be afraid to accept there are things you can't control," Jimmy replied. "I know we sports jur-jur-journalists give you guys a hard time when you screw up but somebody has to hold you guys uh-uhc- _uhhh_ \- accountable. We also know that football is a highly charged game of p-p-passion, and egos. You can't corral that. St-st-still, you can't be sloppy, you need to be vih-vih- _vihhh_ -vigilant with your team. The senior staff and the players. Eh-eh-everybody involved. You need to be ff-fff-firm."

"Right." Kyle nodded. "Got it."

"M-m-m-most importantly, be honest and transparent."

"After the shitstorm this summer I can't afford to be anything but." He sighed. "I had to make that clear in my interview. I'm going to be honest. I'm not going to be like my dad and screw everything up."

After shadowing him all these years, Kyle had learned a lot from his father. He had admired him without question, thought he knew everything about him. That's why it stung so much when he found out there was so much he didn't know, when that wretched, festering underside to his personality was exposed. Being pulled in all directions by every bitter, incredulous emotion had left him reeling. At least it reminded him of what he needed to be now he was owner, and it was something his dad had never done.

"Your dad was a good owner," Jimmy replied. "That's what made that whole mess so ss-ss- _saah_ -sad. But you're not going to be like him. You know all this stuff. You kn-kn-know the game inside and out. You've b-b-b-basically been co-owner since college. This is what you were born to do, Kyle."

It was then that Jimmy crystallised everything Kyle was terrified of. What if he screwed up that one thing he was born to do? What would be left of the team then? Their legacy? What would be left of him? Kyle gulped, his fingers flexing around the steering wheel.

"Thanks, Jimmy."

"Nn-nn-no problem. Tuh-tuh-talk to you later!"

Soon the soft, inoffensive songs coming from his radio were filling the car again, but when Kyle looked out the window that waning summer sky didn't comfort him as much. Why did he think this was the end, when it was only the beginning?

* * *

That heavy dread sitting on Kyle's heart was lifted when he reached his parents' house. Even if it had been the setting for some pretty uncomfortable conversations and heated arguments these past few months, Kyle's blissful, childhood memories were a remarkable salve on those fresh wounds. Situated in the suburbs of Denver, the grand, cream-coloured house, with its elegant water features, and tall, alabaster columns surrounding the front door, would always be a welcome retreat when Kyle needed to get away from the city, the stadium. As if he could ever separate himself entirely from the Mustangs. They would always have a piece of him.

The evening breeze rustling through the trees and chirping birds greeted Kyle as he left his car and walked to the front door. The gate was in the distance, hidden by the abundant, but always well-maintained foliage that wouldn't be so green for much longer, turning copper already.

Kyle walked straight in, the large front door shutting with a loud thud.

"Hello?" he said, as he took off his jacket and placed it on the hat stand.

"Is that my handsome, successful son?" his mom's voice travelled through the kitchen and bounced off the walls.

She never had trouble making herself heard. Kyle remembered the house ringing with her voice as a child, calling him downstairs for breakfast. He grinned.

"Nah, Ike's still in California."

He soon heard the clack of her heels against the polished tiles, and saw her bustling towards him with a wide smile on her face, and a rolled up  _AFA Digest_  in hand.

"So modest, bubbe, you know I meant you!" she gushed, squeezing him tightly before cupping his cheeks and placing loud, lipstick kisses all over his face. Kyle was sure she felt his temperature rising under her perfectly manicured fingers.

"Oh, bubbe, I'm just so proud of you!" she said when she pulled away, hands at her chest. Her face was pinked and her eyes were wet. "You've handled this summer so well and your father and I... we don't know what we would have done without you these past few months."

What would his mom have thought if she knew that it was her very dependence on Kyle that had kept him together in the first place? Without her needing a shoulder to cry on, without a team to support, and a legacy to protect, Kyle would have spent the summer holed up in his apartment, punching every wall and screaming into every pillow at how disgusted and disappointed he was at this whole sorry situation. But after years of loving him, and caring for him, it had been Kyle's turn to step up and do some protecting of his own. He owed his parents that much.

"After everything you've done for me, it's the least I can do. Where is dad, anyway?"

"In his office," his mom replied. "He'll come down when dinner is ready."

"Kyle!"

They both jolted at the sound of his dad's voice.

"Hey, dad!" Kyle replied, moving towards the stairs.

"Come on up, son, I want to talk to you!"

Kyle didn't reply, glancing at his mom instead for some indication of what he wanted to talk about. Since they both knew that a private conversation with him meant being talked  _at_ , rather than talked  _to_. But she appeared none the wiser, and just as wary.

"I'll call you both when dinner is ready," she offered.

Kyle smiled appreciatively, before jogging upstairs to his father's office.

* * *

There were many things Kyle's father had tried to instil into him and his brother growing up, and the importance of privacy was one of them. His father valued it more than anybody else Kyle had met, especially when concerning his office. Elusive and shrouded in mystery when Kyle was a child, being invited into his office was a cause for celebration, a mark of approval. Kyle remembered standing outside the office as a boy, waiting for his dad to open the door, giddy with excitement. Standing outside it now, Kyle felt unnerved and ashamed. They say ignorance is bliss, and Kyle was still unsure if he even wanted to possess the knowledge of a side to his father he had once kept so well-hidden, concealed behind that office door. He supposed he didn't have a choice now. Rubbing the last lipstick stain off his face before his dad could comment on it, Kyle then knocked.

"Come in, come in!" his dad replied from the other side.

He jumped up from his armchair when Kyle stepped into the office, and Kyle winced. Stilted and eager to please, his every action seemed to be disingenuous now, squirmy, one eye always searching for a way out of whatever situation he was in. Still, he managed a tight smile.

"How are you, son?"

"Good, good..."

"You want something to drink?" his dad asked. "I could pour you a glass?"

Kyle nodded, glancing at the drink his father had already made for himself.

"Sure, thanks."

The brassy globe drinks cabinet was already opened by his father's side, and Kyle watched him pour a glass of red wine. Not his first choice, but he wasn't going to argue. He accepted the drink silently.

"Go ahead, take a seat!" his father said, gesturing to the matching leather chair opposite him.

Faded and ostentatious, Kyle and Ike both used to pretend they were thrones. They were the princes being summoned to the royal court by their father, who, with his players as knights and his fans as subjects, was the closest thing to royalty they would ever experience. They sipped at their drinks in silence, and Kyle glanced around the room. The setting sun was carving the shadow of the windowpane onto the carpet, the record player was collecting dust in the corner, and he winced at the computer and the immaculate desk.

"That was a, uh, impressive interview you gave in  _AFA Digest_ ," his dad said, nodding slowly. "You came off very well."

"Thank you."

"Did it bother you though?" his dad's eyebrows were furrowed, almost pleading Kyle to tell him what he wanted to hear. "All the references to this terrible mess? It bothered the hell out of me when I was reading it."

Kyle shifted in his seat. Of course it bristled him when it was brought up in the interview. But it was woven into their legacy now. Painful as it was, Kyle couldn't erase it and didn't feel that he should. He couldn't stop those misogynistic and racist emails from existing, but he could damn well make sure they didn't happen again.

"Well, sure, it was-"

"I bet it's all they talked to you about beforehand, forgetting it was a crime that those emails were even leaked in the first place! A total invasion of privacy! I know I'm in the public eye, but come on, isn't it better that I said all those things in confidence to a friend than at a press conference? Or in an interview, for that matter?"

"People expected better of you and Garrison, dad," Kyle replied, his voice taut. "That's why they were so upset. You were in positions of power and when you talk like that, even in private, it sends a damaging message to-"

"But we were just kidding! Has nobody got a sense of humour anymore?" He shook his head and sighed, staring into his half-empty glass. "We come from a different time. That's the problem, we're too old and set in our ways to keep up with the rules... back in my day, this whole thing would have been a non-issue." He returned his gaze to Kyle then, as if his incredulity had emboldened him. "It would be something you could joke about at the bar after a game, hell, in a conference room and everybody would have laughed. There would be no outrage, no scandal... Christ, look at Jack Tenorman! He was the best quarterback the Mustangs had ever known, an icon, and universally loved by the fans, but his attitude towards women wasn't exactly gentlemanly... he was a serial womaniser, and that's no exaggeration. It was a known fact, and people still worshipped him! Even though he had a wife and two sons. Not even that stopped him! The press just needs to let this whole thing  _go_. Hopefully this article is the turning point. It even said that your appointment is the start of a new era! How does that feel, huh?"

A grin had spread across his face, infectious. Kyle smiled, bashful, playing with the stem of his glass.

"Pretty great, pretty surreal..."

"It may not seem like it, but we've got the edge this season, Kyle. Believe me, we really have. A point to prove and some young blood. I'm still unconvinced by that young, arrogant, PC upstart they got to replace Garrison though." He tutted and shook his head. "Straight out of a frathouse and that's who the association elects as president of the team? Now,  _that's_  scandalous! Remember how furious Garrison was at the meeting?"

Kyle nodded, recalling Garrison's final, outrageous rant that had left everybody stunned and unable to talk even fifteen minutes after he'd stormed out of the boardroom.

"At least I could choose my successor without all that bureaucratic crap," his father continued. "The association wholeheartedly agreed you were the best fit. This is a family team after all, built on tradition. My father founded this team, and you and I both are following in his footsteps. It's an incredible thing to be a part of, isn't it?"

It was what Kyle had been waiting for his whole life, but he had never comprehended the magnitude of it until now.

"It's a huge responsibility, that's for sure..."

"You'll do a great job, son. You've still got a couple weeks until the season starts to let this all sink in. Look at the positives, you've got a team energised and motivated to really make a splash this season, and a new signing to help them along-"

"Actually, he's my biggest concern," Kyle cut in, troubled by even the mention of their newest player. "I still think we were too hasty in signing him, no matter how talented he is. He's still been disrespectful about the team in the past and I'm not sure what kind of message that sends out... plus, it's not exactly great for team spirit. I mean, the reason we wanted to trade Damien Thorn so badly was because his attitude sucked, and the team hated him."

His father rolled his eyes, a dismissive smile on his face.

"Come on, Kyle, those past comments were clearly just bluff, bravado, or whatever you want to call it... you saw for yourself when we were brokering the deal how charming he was!"

Kyle couldn't deny that, but still maintained that Eric Cartman's Cheshire cat grin, his conviction, the way he carried himself, and how he so swiftly dismissed one person so he could impress another made him inaccessible. Even his broad, formidable stature and hypnotic golden eyes had irked Kyle and were hard to shake from his mind.

"He couldn't have been more apologetic about his behaviour," his father added.

"Yeah, with you," Kyle mumbled. "He barely acknowledged me."

Granted, Kyle was yet to be announced as owner when the deal had been made. Still, he would've appreciated more than just a bone-crushing handshake and a few cursory glances accompanied by an infuriating, knowing smile.

"May have been your attitude," his father replied, immediately returning Kyle to the present. His father had arched a wry eyebrow at him. "You don't hide your feelings well. Look, the reason he tried to distance himself from the Mustangs when he was starting out, and when he was the hot new property, is he doesn't want to live in his father's shadow. That's understandable, isn't it?"

Before Kyle could reply, he was interrupted by his mom calling them for dinner.


	2. Chapter 2

" _Eric, first off, welcome to the Philadelphia Pumas. I'm sure I speak for everybody in this room when I say that we can't wait to see you out on that field."_

" _Thanks, I've had a great welcome from the people of Philadelphia." Eric grinned, soaking up the applause of his team members and the journalists at the press conference._

_Only the slightest glimmer of humility rushed across his babyish face, fresh out of college and clearly savouring his first taste of playing for an AFA team. Years as a professional athlete had hardened him, honed him into a formidable force out on the field, the one Kyle recognised from their meeting in the summer._

" _Now, you're a very special player," the journalist continued. "You had a remarkable run playing for your college team, the Bulls, the stats speak for themselves... and we can't ignore your parentage. We're incredibly lucky to have you on the east coast, but would you ever consider playing for the Mustangs?"_

_Eric shook his head, muttering to a member of the coaching staff beside him. The camera caught his familiar grin, and it had taken on a new, exasperated shade._

" _I've only just got here, and you guys are asking me about where I'm going next?" he replied. "Come on!"_

_The room thrummed with laughter._

" _No, no, not at all-"_

" _Honestly, it'd have to be a very sweet deal," Eric cut in, becoming more serious than he had been at his meeting with Kyle. "I mean, there is definitely a certain sum of money the Mustangs would have to offer, for me to even consider getting out of bed and flying all the way to Denver, you know? And I don't think they'd be willing to cough up that money or buy that plane ticket... even though they like to keep it in the family."_

_Eric's eyes seemed to light up when the crowd sniggered._

" _Right?" He chuckled. "The set up over there is, frankly, incestuous. Like, the quarterback is the son of their former coach, and the godson of their current coach? What the hell is that about?" He shook his head, smile fading. "Okay, so it's not creepy but it's... boring. It's comfortable, and playing it safe, and I don't like playing it safe. I wanna be a part of a team that's innovative, and isn't afraid to take risks, that doesn't fall back on what's familiar. I don't wanna play in my father's shadow, I've never wanted to. You know what my eighteenth birthday present was? Changing my last name to my mom's maiden name. That's what I wanted because I knew I had a solid career ahead of me, if I made the right choices. And relying on my dad's name, my dad's image... it wouldn't have been the right choice. You know, I've worked just as hard as anybody else to get here. I'm just as hungry, just as driven, and I wanna create my own legacy. I don't want to be a footnote to my dad, however great he was. My skills are my own, and I'm not afraid to take credit for them."_

Kyle sighed, pausing the video before he threw his phone across the office. He rubbed his face, tried to concentrate on his breathing in a bid to calm himself down, bristled by Eric's words that were still ringing in his head. But all he could think about was how they had caved to Eric's extortionate deal, and how foolish it now seemed. Kyle remembered asking his father what the fuck he was thinking handing over that sum of money, the most lucrative deal he had ever seen his dad sign. He had waved him off, assured him it was the right decision. Kyle was yet to find out whether that was true. Though he supposed he would get a fairly good idea soon, as their first training session was this afternoon.

* * *

After weeks of late-nights at the office, attending meetings, and finishing the incomplete work his father had left behind after his hasty departure, Kyle was glad to have some fresh air. He tucked his hands into his pockets as he walked along the perimeter of the football field, a smile on his face at the smells, sights, and sounds that all felt familiar and comfortable. No matter how long he had been preparing for his new role, at least three times a day he felt like his chin was just above the unforgiving water.

The scent of freshly cut grass drifted into his nose as he passed Wendy sitting in the shade, examining various charts, and Coach Kern setting up cones for the drills he wanted to run that day. Some of the guys jogged around the field already, led by Stan. He saw Leopold (affectionately known as 'Butters' to his teammates), and Clyde stretch as they chatted to one another; and Token, Kenny, and Craig laughing amongst themselves, and realised that while so much had changed, and had been damaged, these people were still there and committed to the team. Kyle had to give them a leader they could believe in, and he actually felt his shoulders straighten and his chest puff out as if his responsibility was a piece of armour to be worn with pride.

His smile wavered, however, when he noticed Eric Cartman, sipping at his sports bottle and scanning the field just like Kyle had. Still, he doubted the small smile on his face was one of fondness, but of calculation and that unnerving arrogance. Why wasn't he jogging with his quarterback? Or talking to his teammates? Kyle was sure all the necessary introductions to the team had taken place already, so maybe he no longer felt the need to charm and impress like he had at their meeting. He had what he wanted now, and perhaps thought he was better than all of them. In the cool afternoon, Kyle could feel his skin flare.

Before he could start to seethe, Eric turned his head, and Kyle blinked at the sudden eye contact like the sun had sliced through his vision. Despite his surprise, Kyle didn't look away. Doing so would have been a defeat, an admittance that he had been staring at him. Eric wouldn't let him out of his misery, holding his gaze but letting that small smirk slip, his lips had parted as if he wanted to shout over to him, but had no idea what the hell he would say. Kyle knew the feeling. His voice had been robbed by Eric's distant, magnetic stare. He remembered that the hypnotic quality of his eyes was one of the things that had bothered him so much when they first met – demanding and possessing a colour impossible to figure out. Eric took a sip of his water, but still didn't look away. Kyle parted his own lips, aching for a drop when his mouth felt as dry as sandpaper.

He almost choked when a firm hand clapped his shoulder, but at least it pulled him out of his haze. He wished he could find a fix for the unsettling confusion now sitting in his stomach.

"Hey, chief!" Coach Kern grinned, hand still on Kyle's shoulder. "How you holding up?"

"Oh, hey, coach," Kyle replied, returning the handshake that Coach Kern had extended. "Good, I think. I'm positive."

"Me too, before the start of the season you've always got to be positive, a little cocky even, because that resonates, you know? With the team. You need to have a pack going out there who are ferocious and determined to win. You can't have a team who are timid, and unsure, oh no. They'd get eaten alive! And our boys, they're resilient, they're talented. I believe they can do it, and give it their all trying."

Kyle glanced at the team and knew Coach Kern was right. As much as the players represented the team, so too did Kyle have to represent them. Even if it meant bluffing, when there was so much still yet to learn, and adjust to... like the nickname of 'chief' being passed down to him.

"Me too," he replied, beaming. "Actually, coach, do you mind if I have a talk with the guys before training gets underway? I feel like it would be a good morale boost."

"Sure thing, chief."

Kyle winced when Coach Kern blew his whistle.

"Listen up!" he called out, as the team began to jog over to them. "Mr Broflovski wants to speak to you!"

"Shit, we're not gonna have to start calling you that now, are we, Kyle?" Kenny asked.

Everyone laughed as they huddled around Kyle and their coach, and the warm, close sound made a grin stretch across Kyle's face.

"No, no, that'd be too weird. You can still call me Kyle," he replied. "This is a new start, new Mustangs, right?" he was reassured when they all nodded and murmured affirmatives. "That's actually why I wanted to talk to you guys. We're obviously going through a reinvention after a pretty tough summer. I know it was hard on you guys when you're all so focused on making the fans proud, the city proud."

The mention of summer was a weight on the atmosphere. Some of the guys looked down at the grass, as if it had physically dragged them down, mourning the loss of something that seemed invincible, immortal, even. Kyle's heart too, creaked with the pressure.

"I admire your determination so much, guys, and you sure as hell make me proud," Kyle continued, a smile spreading across his face once more. "I'm honoured to be the owner of this amazing team, and I want to do right by it. First off, let's put all the negativity of the summer behind us. It was a crease in our legacy, but the greatest legacies don't always run smoothly, right?"

The guys seemed to brighten up, grinning and nodding in agreement, murmuring to each other once more.

"I'm gonna take a leaf out of you guys' book and say let's get back to concentrating on doing what we're best at, and that's playing football. You know what headline I wanna see at the end of the season? 'Triumphant Mustangs' Lift Olympus Cup After Fantastic Season,' and I believe that could be a reality because of the capability and talent of the team I see before me. Yes, the foundations have been rocked a little by the departure of our president and..." Kyle stalled, but he had to get the words out. "A-a-and our owner... but we've got so much going for us, and a lot of new faces to invigorate us. The Association has appointed a new president, and on the ground..." bracing himself, Kyle then glanced at Eric. "We have a new fullback..."

Eric nodded at Kyle and smiled, so pointed that Kyle struggled to offer a polite smile in return. He soon looked away and returned his attention to the rest of the team.

"So with all that, we can definitely give our fans the glorious, exciting, and satisfying season they deserve... and bring home that Olympus Cup." Kyle grinned. "Are you guys in?"

The team erupted in a chorus of "hell yeah!", and "fuck yeah!", and even one lone "go Mustangs!" from Butters.

"Great stuff, chief!" Coach Kern beamed, clapping Kyle on the back. He blew his whistle again at the dispersing team. "Well, what are you all waiting for, let's start! Box drill!"

Sighing, Kyle then made his way over to Wendy who had now left her bench in the shade. She was nodding approvingly, a wry smile on her face.

"That speech was really something."

"Thanks," Kyle replied, tucking his hands in his pockets.

"Didn't think I'd be seeing you around here now that you're owner."

"I want to be one hundred percent committed to every aspect of the team, not just the marketing, and the budgets, and all that crap. I wanna take care of my players..." Kyle then shrugged, a shy smirk on his face. "Plus, I figure that if I keep doing the stuff I did before then it would make this whole thing feel a little less huge and daunting."

Wendy laughed and nodded.

"Sounds good to me..."

Kyle smiled. He always missed this during the summer, he and Wendy watching football practice together, commenting on the season, upcoming games, the players, and pretty much anything else when those topics ran dry. Although Kyle knew he could be opinionated, it was always nice to get the perspective of somebody just as vocal, and he always appreciated Wendy's thought-provoking honesty. There was one thing- rather, one  _person_  – he wanted to discuss, even if it was counterproductive to his mission to get him out of his damn mind. He fidgeted, fruitlessly resisting the question he was itching to ask.

"Hey, what do you think of Eric Cartman?"

"Personality wise?" Wendy shrugged. "Nothing special. As far as I can tell. He's just as cocky as every new player who comes through here. I don't know, maybe I've been in this game too long and I'm becoming cynical."

"That's a possibility." Kyle smirked.

Wendy did too, eyes twinkling, but she still nudged him in his side.

"Skills wise? He's good, very good," she added, completely earnest. "The best fullback in the Association at least."

Kyle raised his eyebrows. "You really think so-"

"Holy shit, Cartman!" Coach Kern exclaimed. "Fucking incredible, son!"

Kyle and Wendy watched Butters, Jason, David, and Gary stumble to their feet after Eric had tackled them. Clyde was still rolling around on the grass, clutching his crotch.

"Thanks, coach," Eric replied, grinning as he tossed the ball in the air. "Sorry, Donovan, but I can't go easy on you."

"You've bruised my fucking nutsack, asshole!" Clyde cried.

"Can you do that?" Butters asked David, who shrugged in response.

"Better be careful, dude, he only has one ball!" Craig teased.

"I have two, you fucking-"

"Donovan, walk it off!" Coach Kern barked. "Get an icepack from Doctor Testaburger if you're gonna be a pussy!"

Clyde managed to stumble to his feet and began to amble over to Wendy and Kyle.

"Better watch out, Tucker!" he called over his shoulder, pointing at Craig. "Because when it's my turn, I'm gonna destroy you!"

"I'm shaking."

Eric strolled over to his team, still tossing the ball in the air before he thrust the ball into a scowling Stan's chest. Kyle gritted his teeth and shook his head.

"See? I'm just concerned that he's not going to get along with the rest of the team."

"They don't get along most of the time, anyway," Wendy replied. "Look, of course he's gonna be strutting around like an alpha dog at first, but they all do! Come on, you've seen this happen enough times. What's so different about this guy?"

Kyle's eyes wandered over to Eric, and he hated that he still didn't have a rational explanation for why this guy bothered him. There had to be more than just his arrogance, and bravado, and his unusual, golden eyes. Kyle wasn't that petty, right? There had to be... something.

"I don't know..."

"Well, while you ponder that, I'm going to take care of Clyde."

Kyle snickered, and turned to her with a smirk.

"Have fun."

Wendy smiled, and rolled her eyes before making her way over to Clyde. Kyle's gaze returned to Eric, praying their eyes wouldn't meet again.

* * *

Watching Clyde practically limp around the field with a supposedly 'bruised' nutsack provided Kyle with an amusing, and effective distraction from thinking too hard about Eric. As did concentrating on the plays Coach Kern had the guys run earlier. Kyle always committed them to memory, so even when he was sat up in that lofty, executive lounge watching a game, he knew the success of each play out on the field. Even if that meant observing Eric delivering some impressive hits, that even bordered on dirty. Kyle winced as Eric tackled his teammates to the floor, the loud thud of their backs hitting the ground, and their winded groans were hard to listen to even if it was all orchestrated. Kyle couldn't imagine the aggression Eric would exhibit at an actual game, ferociously competitive and with the stakes dizzyingly high. He was just as hungry as he had been at that press conference six years ago, and – though Kyle loathed admitting it – just as talented as Wendy had said.

The team jogged past him again, heads down as they puffed and panted. But Eric had hung back, and Kyle rolled his eyes when he noticed he was heading towards him. Agitation melted into nerves when he realised this would be the first, real conversation they were going to have and he had no idea what the hell he wanted to talk about. Surely, it was nothing he couldn't handle, right? He straightened his shoulders, tried to adopt a passive expression, and stop fidgeting. Despite the exertion of running laps, Eric appeared infuriatingly cool and collected as he neared Kyle.

"Hi..." he said, with a smile that was actually warm and polite, rather than cocky and goading. Maybe it was his flushed, sweaty face that painted him a bit more humble?

"Hi..." Kyle replied. His eyebrows knitted together. "Is there something you wanted to talk to me about?"

Eric blinked, as if the question came from nowhere.

"Yeah, I just wanted to wish you luck with your new job," he replied.

That was the last thing Kyle expected. At least it was a pleasant surprise.

"Oh..." he nodded, smiling. "Thank you."

"I know we've met before, but I spent a lot of time talking to your dad, so, consider this us meeting for the first time."

With that, Eric held out his hand to shake the same way he had thrust the ball into Stan's chest earlier. Suddenly, he was offering something Kyle didn't know he wanted with an assured confidence that made him want to take it. Kyle played along, adopting most professional smile and returning the handshake. It was as firm as before, but warmer now and damp with sweat. Eric's grip loosened, but he still didn't let go. He had arched his eyebrow, smile softening.

"Now you say something like... it's a pleasure to meet me?"

Kyle resisted the urge to roll his eyes.

"It's nice to meet you, Eric Cartman."

Eric nodded approvingly.

"Pleasure to meet you too... Kyle."

He finally relinquished his grip, and their hands seemed to hover in the air before they placed them back at their sides. Eric rubbed his on his thighs, while Kyle tucked his hands behind his back.

"So... I guess we're both newbies, huh?" Eric asked.

"In some ways, yes." Kyle nodded. "This team has been a part of my life for a long time."

"Yeah, I get that. Must be a real chance for you to prove yourself, right?"

Kyle blinked, unsure how to respond to a question he didn't know if he should take offence to. The doubt burrowed under his skin, insidious.

"Excuse me? I don't need to prove myself to anyone, or have anyone's approval."

"Really?" Eric huffed. "I beg to differ. Because it seems that every sports channel, and sports column, is talking about how you're gonna prove yourself. And hey, that might just be the opinion of some sensationalistic journalists who wanna create a little pre-season drama-"

"Yeah?"

"Or they could be onto something," Eric continued with a loathsome grin. "That speech you gave was inspiring, sure, but you want to prove yourself just as much as you want us to get to the playoffs, even if you don't want to say it. But you have said it, in that same, big glossy interview where you wanted to be more transparent and honest."

Kyle laughed incredulously, and it was blessed relief from the anger mounting from this conversation.

"Okay, if we're gonna get into saying one thing and doing another, don't you think it's pretty rich that you're now playing for a team that you've been trashing ever since you went pro?" He folded his arms, smirking. "Seems we've found your price, after all."

Eric's grin tightened into a scowl, and he stepped forward.

"Hey, I'm one of the best players in the Association right now," he replied. "Your dad knew it, and so do you. So just remember that I'm doing you a favour, not the other way around."

Kyle looked around him, praying nobody had heard that. Embarrassed, enraged heat crawled up in his throat and even when he wanted to reprimand Eric there and then that would've just been admitting that Eric was right. Kyle didn't want to admit that, even to himself. Eric eyed him up stonily.

"It's going to be great playing for you..." he said, before joining the guys again.

Kyle seethed for the rest of practice, that infectious doubt spreading.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In case you guys haven't noticed, Eric and Kyle staring into each other's eyes is my favourite thing. Look at my icon, for example. You can tell that's what I'm about. Expect more of Eric and Kyle looking into each other's eyes in future chapters! I hope you enjoyed this chapter, and getting to meet the team! They'll be sure to feature more heavily as the story goes on. Thank you so much for reading and I hope you enjoyed! I'd love to hear your thoughts!


	3. Chapter 3

" _Welcome folks, it's a beautiful evening here in Denver, Colorado. The perfect fall evening to kick off the new season, and, honestly, the best place to play it."_

" _That's right, Bob, the first game of the season sees the Detroit Tigers play the Denver Mustangs, after a pretty stormy, and, let's face it, devastating summer. Losing not only their president, but their owner too."_

" _Still, they've bounced back with some new, but not unfamiliar faces. They have a hot new signing in Eric Cartman, the team no doubt hoping to replicate his tremendous success at Philadelphia, and also his late father's legendary success. I'm sure we can both agree, Mike, that Eric Cartman is still the number one fullback in the association right now."_

" _He sure is, Bob."_

" _Let's not forget also, that this is Kyle Broflovski's first game as owner. Of course, the son of the disgraced Gerald Broflovski. He's the youngest owner in the Association, at only twenty eight. That's a lot of pressure and responsibility for such a young man."_

" _True, but football is in his DNA like no other owner, and he's been a presence on the team for a few years now. Since graduating college, he's been preparing to take on this role... though I doubt he ever imagined it would be quite thrust upon him in this way."_

" _He certainly wouldn't have, Mike, and I'm sure the Mustangs are dying to get back to some good, old-fashioned football. The adrenaline must be running high for the team right now. They're no doubt in that locker room raring to go."_

Kyle had never asked his dad what it felt like to watch his first Mustangs game as owner. Perhaps it was so long ago that he couldn't remember, the first day of a whole new life. Football was different back then, smaller, still joyous, and intense, and unifying, but not larger than the people it was made up of. Football had become a behemoth. Now, sat in that familiar Executive Lounge surrounded by the same local politicians, celebrities, and AFA directors he had been making small talk with since he was a teenager, Kyle felt like he was in the hungry, jagged mouth of that formidable beast, just trying to hold its jaws open.

He had retired to the leather seats close to the window after making the usual rounds of small talk. He was too distracted by his feverish anxiety to discuss anything deeper than the weather and business. He thought he wanted silence, needed it, but his obsessions over the impending game, the morale of his players, and Eric's unpredictable behaviour were deafening. He stared at the empty field below him, and the hoards of loyal fans, and hoped he could do them proud.

A hand clutched his forearm and squeezed.

"Are you sure you don't want something to drink, bubbe?" his mom asked beside him.

She had attended all the home games with his dad as the dutiful wife, and didn't seem to be relinquishing that role even when his father was no longer present.

Kyle offered her a quick, small smile and shook his head.

"I'm fine, thanks."

She frowned, eyes gleaming with concern.

"I just think it will help you relax."

"Do you think I should go down to the locker room? Say a few words? Check on how the guys are doing? I just want them to be in the right frame of mind going out there..."

"Stan and Coach Kern will take care of that."

"Maybe I still have some time before the game starts?" Kyle asked, rising from his seat, but his mom tightened her grip and pulled him back down.

He started at her, puzzled, but felt his anxiety dissipate under her gentle, reassuring touch and imploring gaze.

"Oh, bubbe... you're such a thoughtful, caring man. I love that about you. But maybe you care a little too much?"

Kyle sighed. How could he not care about this team with every inch of his being? He shook his head.

"All I'm trying to say is, you can't predict what's going to happen out on that field," she added, in the same tone she had used when assuring Kyle there were no monsters under his bed, or that his trip to the dentist wouldn't be so bad. When he glanced at her, she was wearing the same, quietly confident grin he remembered from all those years ago. "There is nothing you can do now to change the outcome of the game. I know that's the last thing you want to hear right now, but it's the most freeing thing you can hear right now too. Believe in your players, bubbe, and they'll come through for you. All you have to do is sit back, and relax."

Kyle nodded, sure that the weight being lifted off his chest was a childhood reflex. But he was glad that he could still remember the feeling, and that his mom's comforting spell hadn't worn off.

"Alright..." he whispered. He offered her a tight smile. "Alright..."

His mom returned the smile, and squeezed his arm again. Out of the corner of his eye, Kyle noticed the flat screen was showing his players running out of the tunnel and onto the field. They both turned their attentions to it, and Kyle smiled at every player who passed the camera. But it wobbled when he saw Eric, wondering if indeed he could count on him to come through.

* * *

Kyle had almost made it to the end of the second quarter without throwing up or chewing his fingernails to the bone. A personal victory, but also a credit to the performance of his players, and begrudgingly, one player in particular. Eric was fantastic, even if he wasn't the speediest when hurtling down the field. He shrugged off the opposing players going in for attack like they were bothersome flies buzzing around him. His eyes seemed to be trained on the ball like a cat on a ball of yarn. His quick hands were always ready to receive the ball from his teammates, and Kyle imagined his fingers constantly flexing for it. A little selfish, yes, but Kyle tried not to let that bother him when another touchdown was scored. In fact, he cheered and jumped out of his seat just like everybody else, swept along in the festivities.

Eric, however, chose to celebrate another touchdown alone. Fist pumps and gracious waves to the raucous crowd when he was responsible for a touchdown, and modest applause for his teammates when he wasn't. This wasn't disconcerting to Kyle, but the frostiness that remained between Stan and Eric was. Kyle hoped a victory today would thaw their relationship out, and as long as Eric was following Stan's orders then the rest of the game was sure to run smoothly.

Kyle watched the huddle intently, and after the snap his eyes followed the movements of his players and recognised the play in an instant. He shifted forward in his seat, biting his lip to control the grin aching to spread across his face. It was a play sure to tip the Mustangs' game in their favour and earn them a touchdown, when currently they were neck and neck with the Tigers. The ball whistled through the air, ready to be caught by Eric, who would then pass it to the famously swift Craig who would carry it through to the end zone. Eric kept the ball close to his chest, impassable, and unshakeable as he seemed to plough through the Tigers' defence, leaving them trailing at his ankles, or stumbling to catch up to him. Soon, he would hand the ball over to Craig who would score that coveted touchdown while the Tigers were still dazed from their literal run-ins with Eric. Kyle could hardly wait. His ass would have hit the floor if he wasn't clinging on so tight to the armrests of his chair. He chewed at his lip.

_Come on come on come on_

But Eric didn't pass the ball, and for a team so regimented in their plays the shock was noticeable even from where Kyle was sitting. One kink in the conveyor belt and the whole operation descends into meltdown, panic. At least Kyle was frozen, a lump in his throat and a boulder in his stomach. An astute Tigers' player seized the advantage Eric had basically handed them on a platter, and tackled him. Not enough to bring Eric down, but enough to make him fumble the ball. The crowd roared in displeasure, and the guests in the Executive Lounge gasped and tutted. Kyle simply closed his eyes and shifted back into his seat, bringing his hands to his face. He wanted to hide from the shame and frustration crowding around him.

The referee blew his whistle for half time, and when Kyle glanced at the screen he saw that Stan had beaten Craig to it in giving Eric a piece of his mind. But Eric wasn't afraid, both helmets off and nose to nose, screaming at each other. He gritted his teeth, every quickening breath snagging on anger as he watched the appalling display. How could they think this behaviour was acceptable? And how could he sit there and tolerate it?

He shook his head and lifted himself out of his chair.

"Fuck it..." he muttered, before storming out.

"Bubbe!" he heard his mom call after him. "Bubbe, come on, sit down! It's not worth it!"

He hurried to the locker room, seething and sweating when he finally reached it. Even walking down the airy, dim corridor he could hear the commotion, and Eric and Stan's voices slicing through it. Nobody looked at him when he stepped inside, the room cramped and everybody preoccupied with their own laments of a wasted opportunity. Stan and Eric were still in each other's faces, strained red and vicious.

"I don't give a shit how talented you think you are, asshole,  _I'm_  your quarterback! You follow my direction, and you don't make a call like that without consulting me first!"

"I didn't fucking need to consult you because my intuition is a thousand times better than a player who's only quarterback because 'Uncle Jimbo' is his coach!"

Stan growled, grabbing Eric by the front of his jersey and raising his fist.

"Hey, hey, break it up!" Coach Kern shouted, parting the crowd that had gathered to watch the fight like kids in a playground.

"Fellas, come on!" Butters pleaded, stepping forward with wide, desperate eyes. "We can't be fighting like this!"

"What the hell is going on in here?!" Kyle yelled.

Everyone's eyes were drawn to him, and turned sheepish. Some glanced at the floor, some looked away and rubbed their necks. He must have looked crazy. He felt it with some wild, unfamiliar adrenaline coursing through his veins. Stan, suddenly solemn, let go of Eric's shirt (but not without tugging at it a little first). Eric simply scowled, tugging at the hem and fixing it back into place. Kyle stepped forward, fists clenched at his sides.

"I hope you two are pretty pleased with yourselves!" he continued. "You have no idea how pathetic you looked fighting like that out on the field! We're trying to set an example here! It's our first game of the season, and you're already at each other's throats! I don't care how you do it, but this shit needs to be dealt with before our next game!" he looked at Eric. His eyes were on the ceiling like a bored, indignant teenager. "And you!"

Eric returned Kyle's gaze, stunned and affronted.

"What the fuck were you thinking out there?!"

"I was thinking of how we could score that touchdown, and actually assessing the situation! It seems like I'm the only player on this team who does that! That play wouldn't have been enough-"

"Well, your plan didn't work out too well either, did it?" Kyle replied with a caustic, derisive chuckle. "But it would have, if you weren't such an arrogant smartass, and let everybody else in on it! Except that would mean sharing the glory, and you don't wanna do that, do you?"

Eric's eyes darkened like a storm cloud passing over his topaz eyes. He scowled, and charged forward. Kyle didn't flinch. He was too angry at Eric to be unnerved by him. Right now, he would have gladly punched him in the face.

"I don't give a shit about glory, but I damn sure care about victories and that's all I have on my mind when I'm out there!" Eric replied. "And even if my great idea didn't pan out because these guys can't improvise, then at least I had the guts to try!"

"That's not the point!" Kyle cried. "Victories are a collaborative effort. Everybody has to be on the same page and working together to pull them off. We run these plays over and over in training, so it's like clockwork out on that field, and that mechanism is so tight that the opposing team can't slip through the cracks."

"But this isn't training!" Eric exclaimed. "This is the real thing, and it's unpredictable! And that pressure is so overwhelming that you can't rely on the familiar. It's just not good enough! But why would you get that? When you're not even fucking out there! In fact, why have you even come down from your fucking ivory executive tower in the first place? Why do you even show up to training? You're our owner! Not our coach, or a player, this isn't your fucking problem! So why do you make it your problem?! You haven't got a life, is that it?"

Kyle winced, his mouth opening to retort but nothing would come out. He glanced at the other players, watching with pity and confusion, and he scowled, hating that Eric had reduced him to this. He wouldn't give him what he wanted. He wouldn't win. He found his answer buried deep beneath his anger and fixed Eric a hard stare.

"This team has been my life ever since I was old enough to come to these games with my father," he replied. "It's who I am. I care about this team, and these players like my family and I will protect them from anything – and  _anybody_  – who threatens it. And right now, you're starting to look like a real fucking problem to me. Now, I don't know how they did things in Philadelphia, but you don't run the show here, and you certainly don't fucking speak to me that way!" he pointed a warning finger at Eric, almost jabbing him in the chest. "I don't care how much you're worth, or what an 'asset' you are to us, I'll fire you if you ever talk to me like that again! Because however much we paid for you is not enough to have to deal with this bullshit!"

Kyle was shaking in the silence, and he backed away from Eric. He didn't want to be too close to his wide-eyed stare, or his speechless mouth hanging agape. He shivered when Eric raked his gaze over him. Smoothing down his tie, he glanced at his shoes and cleared his throat before he addressed his shocked players.

"You only have a few minutes before the third quarter so I'll let Coach Kern take it from here," he said, voice strained.

Before Coach Kern, or Stan, or especially Eric, could stop him, Kyle stormed out of the locker room. He kept his head down as he walked, and he was still shaking by the time he returned to the Executive Lounge. Luckily, everybody seemed to be engaged in their own conversations about the game that they didn't need to ask for his opinion. He would have no idea what to say anyway, if he could even talk at all. He sat down and propped his elbow on the armrest, forehead pressed to his palm. His mom soon sat beside him, two drinks in hand.

"Bubbe, I know you said you didn't want a drink but I got you a-"

Kyle snatched the whiskey from her hand, and started to gladly gulp it down.

"Oh, sweetie, please don't let this get to you." His mom frowned, stroking his hair. "It really isn't worth it, you know."

Kyle nodded, tumbler still pressed to his lips.

* * *

After a closely fought, more co-operative game in the two remaining quarters the Mustangs lost by the smallest of margins. Kyle was surprised at how well he could process the defeat, how easy he found it to shake the well-meaning hands of important people who consoled him on his team's loss with a gracious smile. Because those worn-out clichés were actually true. They may have lost, but the Mustangs put in a terrific performance, and Kyle had every right to be proud of his players. His mom was right, they did come through for him... even the ones he didn't expect. There were no arguments started, or no glory hogged by Eric in the last half of the game, and no matter how embarrassed he was by yelling at Eric, he couldn't regret it when his words seemed to have resonated. Still, he needed to acknowledge good behaviour as well as bad... even if that did make Eric seem like a pet. The thought made Kyle cringe, and wonder if a disciplinarian was what he really wanted – or needed – to be.

He tried to be as inconspicuous as possible hanging out outside the locker room, but it seemed he wasn't the only one who wanted to talk to Eric. He only had to set one foot out of the locker room before a horde of reporters were crowding around him. He had grinned, placating them immediately and raising an exasperated, quieting hand as if he wasn't enjoying every moment of strangers calling out his name.

"Eric, it was your first game playing for the Mustangs tonight, was it anything like you imagined?"

"Well, uh, no because we lost and I never go out on that field with the intention to lose."

They all laughed, infectious enough for Kyle to chuckle under his breath and roll his eyes.

"But hey, these things happen, you know, however hard you try," Eric continued. "Do I know I played a good game? Absolutely, I always do."

"Do you think it was the pressure that got to you guys tonight?" A second reporter asked.

Eric shrugged, with a nonchalance that seemed rehearsed.

"Maybe, but that's just an excuse and winners don't make excuses. There are kinks we have to work out, sure, but I intend to work on them. I don't want to coast on excuses."

"Is one of those kinks your relationship with your quarterback?" A third reporter asked. Eric tilted his chin to the ceiling again, tired and indignant like he had been in the locker room. He may have found this wearisome, but Kyle leaned in a little closer to hear his answer. "Seems like you two got into quite the heated debate after your fumble-"

"Come on, of course he's gonna be frustrated by my error – and that was  _my_  error – and you can criticise me all you want for that mistake, but I had the best intentions," Eric replied. "Of course I didn't want to fumble the ball, I wanted to score a touchdown but that tiger pounced on me-"

Eric stopped when everybody chuckled to themselves, grinning to himself too.

"And uh... look, I always say nobody will understand the pressure, and the heat, and the intensity out on that field, until you've played in it," he continued, serious now. "Us, as players, we gotta live with it, we gotta play in it, and try to keep our cool, but that's easier said than done when we're all competitive, driven guys, all amped up for a victory. Sometimes you fight with your opponents, sometimes you fight with your teammates because we don't always get along. I know that's probably not what you guys wanna hear but we don't. It's not a big deal, and I don't wanna turn this thing with Marsh into a big deal because it's history as far as I'm concerned. I just wanna win. That's always been my M.O."

He offered them a tight, polite smile and lifted his hand again.

"Thanks for your time, guys," he added, as if they had done him a favour.

Although they were tripping over each other with more questions, Eric ignored them. Just as heady as his collisions out on the field, Kyle blinked when their eyes met, flushing in the shadows and drowning in the racket of eager reporters. Ignoring their demands, Eric walked away from them but they were soon distracted by Token coming out of the locker room, barking questions at him instead.

To Kyle's surprise, Eric's smile relaxed him, rather than tense with irritation.

"You come down here to yell at me again?"

_Spoke too soon._

Kyle's shoulders drooped and he arched an eyebrow at him.

"Right." Eric nodded. "Gotta watch the sarcasm around you."

Kyle rolled his eyes, a smile on his face before he could stop it. At least Eric was learning.

"I just wanted to congratulate you on the game."

Eric's eyebrows furrowed.

"But we lost?"

"I know that, but it was still a great game and you played so much better in the third and fourth quarters. I'm not blind, Eric, I know you're a good player. You have incredible skill..."

Eric's eyes flashed and he grinned, puffing his chest out.

"But being a good player is about more than how many touchdowns you can score, or how big your hits are," Kyle added. "It's about camaraderie, and respect for your teammates, and seeing the wider picture. It's not about you." He sighed. "Come on, I shouldn't have to tell you this."

Eric's grin wavered, disappearing altogether when he cleared his throat.

"No, you shouldn't," he replied, taut. "I've been playing this game long enough."

Kyle tucked his hands in his pockets and glanced at his shoes. How else did he think Eric was going to react to his advice?

"But thanks."

When Kyle looked up, there was a small smile on Eric's face he had never seen before. It was so surprising that it drew a smile out of Kyle too.

"You're welcome."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trying to figure out actual gameplay for this gave me such a headache (having never played football myself) and that's what I'm quite light on the details here, pfft! Even though this is a football AU, I don't want to bog the story down with stuff like this, and hopefully I'm not disappointing any football fans here who were looking to read some gameplay. But what this fic lacks in actual football, it more than makes up for in Eric and Kyle interactions, and there'll be plenty of those to come! In the meantime, thank you so much for reading and I hope you enjoyed!


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm pretty pleased that I've been able to post this chapter so quickly! I'm really enjoying writing this story, and my schedule hasn't been too busy or draining lately which gives me more time to write, and I'm always happy when I can do that! Even though this chapter is short, I hope you enjoy and thank you for reading!

Practice was already in full swing by the time Kyle arrived. He had been held up at a meeting with Harbucks Coffee regarding a bid to buy the stadium. His father had resisted such corporate tie-ins, believing it sullied the integrity of the game. From that once infallible pedestal, his concerns seemed legitimate and noble. Standing atop that daunting pedestal himself, Kyle saw all the opportunities readily available to enrich his team's prospects and felt it would be naive to waste it. He had been privy to these conversations for years, but actually participating in them made him realise how puritanical his old views were. Football was a business, and if his team were to survive in a modern AFA he had to treat it as such. If he was to be the breath of fresh air he was prophesised to be he had to take risks. Maybe Eric had a point about pressure changing your perspective...

"Hey, what time do you call this!" he called from across the field. As if he wasn't in Kyle's head enough already. "We're busting our asses over here and you're late!"

"Cartman, come on, pay attention!" Stan replied, and he was actually  _smiling_ at him when he said it.

Kyle chuckled, surprised and delighted.

"Yeah, listen to your quarterback!"

Eric smirked at him, and while Kyle easily grinned in return the damn smile was hard to erase even when Eric had returned to training. Kyle ducked his head and hoped it would have disappeared by the time he greeted Wendy, but it seemed like a pipedream with Eric still on his mind. Just like he had done to every Mustangs fan, Eric had endeared himself to Kyle, despite his best efforts to quash it. It had started with another close game against the Minnesota Gladiators the week before that ended with victory for the Mustangs. Kyle couldn't doubt the tremendous teamwork that seemed almost unrecognisable from that tense Tigers game. But he couldn't deny that Eric in particular had been outstanding, playing like his life depended on it... well, his future with the Mustangs certainly did, as Kyle had made it very clear what would happen if he stepped out of line again.

Kyle was starting to understand why sports sections in every newspaper were talking about him, why every show was falling over themselves to conduct interviews with him. Kyle may have caught his SportsCentral interview the other night, rolling his eyes at Eric's quick remarks and bravado, with a similarly inerasable smile on his face. He tried to justify this growing admiration of course, if only so he could remain professional. He would not be blinded by Eric's shiny charisma. He was an incredible athlete for one thing, who was exhilarating to watch. He seemed to hold the crowd's breath as close as he held the ball to his chest, and they erupted in victorious roars when he scored yet another touchdown. At least Kyle had to gather his breaths, which wasn't that hard when Eric's touchdowns were always followed by ridiculous showboating that the crowd lapped up but Kyle could live without.

"Seems like Stan and Eric are getting along," he said to Wendy by way of a greeting.

Wendy offered him a wry, knowing smile.

"I told you he would settle down eventually. You just needed to let Eric show off, and Stan and the rest of them get territorial, so it's out of their system."

"Yeah, well, I'm just glad it's all over with," Kyle replied with a sigh. "I can't deal with that immature, playground shit right now."

"Well, we may have another problem. I'm concerned about Stan's ribs after that hit he took on Sunday, especially with his asthma and all."

Kyle's whole body seemed to sag as his heart sank. He had to prepare himself for injury, it was inevitable. But he hated that it was so soon, and that it was  _Stan_  of all people.

"Will he still be able to play?"

"Hopefully," Wendy replied. "It may not be as serious as a break. It may just be a bruise. Only problem is, since it's his ribs there's not a whole lot we can do. He just has to let it heal. If it's not too severe, and he's okay with it, I wouldn't have a problem letting him play. But, you know, he's a quarterback, so he'll  _want_  to play even if it's bad news. I'm giving him a check up and going over his x-ray results after practice."

"Mind if I join?"

Wendy shrugged.

"Sure, if Stan doesn't have a problem with it."

"Ha, I don't know about that." Kyle laughed. "Maybe he'll be pissed that I'm a third wheel?"

Wendy snickered in return and shook her head.

"Actually, I think you'll be doing him a favour. Whenever we're in a room alone together he just turns green. It's a good thing I'm trained to deal with people throwing up all over me."

"Would you ever go for it though?"

Wendy shrugged, pursing her lips, though when she glanced at Stan the corners of her mouth piqued upwards.

"I don't know... maybe. He is pretty cute." She was still smiling at him before she sighed wistfully. "Still, technically he's a patient, and I don't think any guy is worth my license getting revoked. As of right now, he has a better chance of hooking up with Gary."

Kyle balked at that last part, eyebrows drawing together.

"Gary? He's married, and he has, like, a dozen kids-"

"Four," Wendy corrected with a smirk. "And, come on, extra-marital affairs have existed for as long as marriage has. If he knew Stan was at all interested, he would totally jump at the chance."

"But he's a Mormon?"

Wendy turned to him, eyebrow arched.

"Kyle," she said, as if the list of reasons why that didn't matter were too exhaustive to recite. No institution, marriage or religion, could stop attraction from blossoming even in the most inconvenient, and unrequited of places.

Kyle rolled his eyes and shook his head.

"Yeah, yeah, I know, but still... has he told you he has a crush on Stan?"

"Yeah, right after he showed me photos of his kids... no, he hasn't! But he didn't need to. You only have to look at him."

Still sceptical, Kyle looked at the field and saw Stan chatting to Gary. He was smiling and nodding at everything his quarterback was saying, and Stan clapped him on the shoulder before going to retrieve his sports bottle. Gary kept a small smile to himself, eyes following Stan as he walked away, raking over his neck, his shoulders, his back... and then tearing his gaze away from him suddenly, wincing like he had ripped a band-aid from a sore, tender spot.

"Holy shit!"

"Right?" Wendy chuckled.

"That's incredible! Your talents are wasted as a doctor."

"Thanks," Wendy replied, tucking some hair behind her hair. "But you've got to be perceptive in medicine. I know these guys better than they know themselves."

Kyle snickered softly, betraying the butterflies in his stomach. He had to wonder if he really was hiding his grins and lingering looks so well?

* * *

The anticipation in Wendy's small office was so thick you could poke your tongue out and taste it. Kyle supposed the fact that himself, Coach Kern, and Stan were all crammed in there didn't exactly make the atmosphere less stifling. They had gone in after Stan's check up, and he seemed both irritated by, and grateful for, their arrival.

"The good news is..." Wendy smiled. "It's just a bruise."

Stan let out a relieved breath he had no doubt been holding in since Sunday, while Coach Kern grinned and gave his godson's shoulder a squeeze. But while Kyle was smiling, he knew that starting off an announcement like Wendy just did wasn't wholly a good thing.

"But there's bad news isn't there?"

Wendy pressed her lips together, glancing down at the hands clasped at her lap.

"Unfortunately, yes," she replied. Taking a breath, she was trying not to wince when she fixed her gaze on her patient. "Stan, I'm sorry, but I'm recommending you stay on the bench. For a few weeks at the most. Right now it's too risky and with your asthma I'm just afraid another bad hit could lead to something a lot worse. The last thing you want is an injury that'll bench you for the entire season, right?"

A small smile brightened Wendy's creased, concerned face. He would agree to anything she said if she smiled at him. Still, Stan tried to avoid her gaze, as if he knew how malleable he was... or how invincible he  _wasn't_ , no matter how much he wanted to be.

"Well, no, but... I,I-I don't feel that bad," he replied, glancing at everybody in the room to make them believe it was true. He shrugged. "I mean, practice was a little tough, sure, but I'll be fine by Sunday."

Wendy sighed again and shook her head.

"I'm sorry, but I can't let you take that chance."

Stan opened his mouth to protest, but the words were lost in his throat. Wendy was resolute, professional, and with different priorities to everybody else in the room. She would sleep easier if she knew Stan was healthy and not at risk of injury, even if it meant the Mustangs losing on Sunday. He turned to Coach Kern instead.

"Uncle Jimbo-" Stan closed his eyes, started again. " _Coach_. You're not gonna bench me, right?"

Coach Kern looked between Kyle and Wendy, disappointed and torn. He clapped Stan on the shoulder again and smiled.

"Kid, you know I'd love for you to be out on that field..." his smile twitched, morphed into something a little more rueful. "But Doctor Testaburger is right. I'd rather do without you there for a couple of games, than have a second string take us through the rest of the season. We can't do this without you, you know that... so if that means you sacrificing a spot in a game or two, then that's how it's gotta be."

Stan's shoulders fell under his godfather's palm. He looked to Kyle, frowning with a crease in his brow, pleading with him to do something. But Kyle couldn't fix a bruised rib, no more than he would be able to live with himself if Stan obtained a nastier injury on Sunday in the name of a potential victory. All he could offer was a defeated frown. But it seemed to be Wendy's reassuring smile that made Stan believe that it was going to be okay, and that he could do this.

"Okay..." he nodded. "Okay... uhh, can I put my shirt back on now?"

Wendy chuckled

"Sure you can."

Stan reached for his shirt, no doubt wanting to hide the flush rising from his chest. He pulled it over his head, and seethed as he stretched, rubbing his injured side.

"I'll prescribe you some medication to deal with the pain," Wendy said, smiling at him.

"Thanks," Stan replied with a smile on his own.

They held them for what was probably a record for those two without Stan's pinked face paling green. Wendy must have been lost in that triumph, shaking her head and rushing to write out his prescription. Kyle couldn't help feeling a little smug watching it all.

Stan hung his head, before rubbing his eyes and pinching the bridge of his nose.

"I just hate letting everybody down..."

"Hey, you're not letting anybody down," Kyle replied, firm. "Your health comes first."

"Besides, we've been pretty tight at the moment," Coach Kern added. "Those guys are gonna rally around you and make you proud, trust me."

Stan lifted his head, nodding.

"I know, I know..."

Kyle brightened at the mention of the team's renewed camaraderie and sensed an opportunity. He needed to snatch it before the beat had passed.

"Uh, coach, how's Eric doing?" he asked. "His attitude seems to be improving."

"Oh, sure!" Coach Kern replied, beaming. "He's calming down with the whole ego thing."

A smile flickered at the corners of Kyle's mouth before he could stop it.

"Yeah, he's been pretty cool lately," Stan added. "He even took us all out for a drink after the Gladiators game to celebrate."

Kyle blinked, something prickling in his chest at the thought of Eric announcing he was taking the team out for a beer after the game. He imagined him joking, and laughing, and grinning around a crowded table, joining in with celebratory toasts to their victory.

"Really?"

Stan nodded.

Never did Kyle think Eric would put his advice into action, or take it so close to heart.

"So, Stan, we'll have another check up in two weeks-"

Kyle drifted out of the conversation, still riding a wave of confidence. He could get through to his players, even ones as self-assured as Eric Cartman. He leaned closer to the window, and peaked through the blinds. He saw Kenny, Clyde, and Butters sat on the benches, laughing with Eric. He was stood by his locker, a towel wrapped around his waist but he wasn't self-conscious. His hands were on his hips and his broad shoulders were pulled back straight as he entertained his teammates.

The wave seemed to crest then, splashing, and roaring, and flooding Kyle's mind with a whole new doubt. Not as agitating as before, but that was sure to consume him still. Had he been wrong about Eric? Jumped to conclusions? Perhaps it was too soon to tell. Perhaps this newfound willingness to actually be a team player was a fluke, a way for him to get Kyle off his back for a little while. Maybe he would soon return to being a disobliging asshole. Kyle gritted his teeth, knowing he would have to wait and see, and hating his own impatience. One thing he knew for sure though. Eric wasn't getting out of his head any time soon.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First off, I'm so sorry that I've taken so long to update! Believe me, if I could've posted this chapter sooner I would've, but I've been pretty busy lately. However, I'm hoping I can return to business as usual and start to update more frequently! But if that changes, I'll be sure to let you guys know! Anyway, I hope you enjoy this chapter and that it was worth the wait! As always I'd love to hear your thoughts!

_Showering in the locker room was a first for Kyle, but still he stood, alone and content, with the hot water splashing onto his face and running in rivulets off his body. The thick cloud of steam sealed off any reason or explanation as to why he was even there in the first place._

_"Hey..."_

_Eric's voice sliced through the running water, echoing off the slippery walls. The airy acoustics made the echoes ring through Kyle's body. He turned around, and noticed the clouds had parted in Eric's presence. He stood there, with a towel wrapped around his waist like Kyle had seen him a few days previously, observing him from Wendy's office. His hands were still placed on his hips, and he wore a small, patient grin. It should have unnerved him, intimidated him when he was in such a compromising position. His naked body was an afterthought and, now that he realised it, an asset which Eric could want, admire, plead for. The thought of being taken right there in the shower shouldn't have thrilled Kyle so much, a swift, electrifying arrow to pierce his very core and make him jolt, but it did. Although, would he really be taken when he was so ready to give in to Eric? He raked his gaze over Eric as he contemplated his decision. His mouth and his arousal growing heavier as he took in his smouldering amber eyes, his wicked grin, his shoulders, biceps, chest, belly, and-_

_"Mind if I hop in?"_

_Eric's question drew Kyle's attention upward, meeting his eyes. He shook his head, his own grin beginning to blossom on his lips._

_"I could use the company."_

_Even though he hadn't felt lonely at all before Eric showed up. But now he was standing in front of him he needed him closer._

_Eric's eyes brightened and he walked into the shower, towel still wrapped around his waist like he'd forgotten he was wearing it at all. Kyle's heart began to thunder over the rushing water, his breath catching on the humid air as Eric neared him. The water seared his skin now rising in heat. He wished he could reach out and turn some cold water on, or turn the water off all together before he could pass out. But he couldn't move. Eric's gaze had him in that damn vice grip, holding it as firmly as his handshakes, or a football tucked under his arm. Kyle wanted Eric to hold him just as tight. Standing mere inches away from Kyle he was taller than ever, towering over him. He rested his hand on the wall above Kyle's head, casting a larger shadow over him than Kyle expected. Their shallow breaths seemed to be all the conversation they needed. Kyle's voice had disappeared down the drain. Water dripped from Eric's hair, his button nose, his chin, and it landed on Kyle's feet. He was smiling like he knew something Kyle didn't, like he had all this planned out like another secret game plan he was hoarding. With his other hand, he held Kyle's chin and lifted it to bring their lips together._

_Eric pressed his lips hard against Kyle's at first, testing the water as it were. A challenge that Kyle eagerly accepted, tilting his chin to return the kiss with the same enthusiasm. But when tongues parted lips the kiss deepened and softened, leaning into each other, and Eric's hand slid from Kyle's chin to his neck, brushing his ear with his thumb. A moan died in Kyle's throat at the bare, gentle contact, and he wanted to feel more of Eric -_ see _more of him. He reached for the towel but Eric, quicker than Kyle had ever seen him out on the field, gripped his wrists and pinned them to the wall. One hand wrapped around both of Kyle's wrists and held him there, squeezing so hard that he feared Eric would break his bones._

_Tenderness was forgotten for hungry, wide-mouthed kisses that drew exhausted, but pleasured whimpers from their lips. Eric was practically sucking at Kyle's tongue when he pressed him against the wall and their waists flush together. Eric shoved his thick, strong thigh between Kyle's legs, his leaking cock staining Eric's towel. But Kyle keened to the coarse material, hooking his leg low on Eric's thigh to rut against the towel. He gasped, and Eric took the opportunity to grin against their lips and press them even closer. Kyle dipped his head back, and Eric's parted lips slid from Kyle's mouth, pecking at his jaw before reaching his throat and burying his face in his neck. Kyle moaned, loud enough to pierce this melting, sultry world._

He woke up in his familiar bed, alone again but any contentment vanished in a millisecond, instead replaced by sleepy confusion. Especially when one part of his body still seemed very content, if not completely satisfied. He lifted the covers, and balked at the bulge straining against his boxers. Away from his dream, the dark patch of pre-cum was mortifying... as was the very subject of his fantasy. His whole body clenched with panic, his mind racing with fleeting, anxious solutions. He could only deal in the short-term for now. He could deal with the long-term, more daunting issues, later. That certainly wasn't cowardly. No, it was sensible. Why even contemplate them when he wasn't thinking straight? That wouldn't do him any favours, and speaking of doing himself a favour...

Grimacing, Kyle once again stared under the covers. He wanted to jerk off. Maybe an orgasm would be like a blissful, momentary shot of amnesia to obliterate any anxiety, and shame... but they would all come creeping back in the aftermath, once his breathing had slowed and the high had faded away. He knew where his mind would wander as he masturbated. Those lusty thoughts of Eric were tucked away in his mind like porn in a sock drawer, and when he was lost in ecstasy they would careen to the forefront of his mind. But what was the alternative? A cold shower? Even if it was his own, it would be like returning to the scene of the crime, and he would never feel clean with that dirty dream lingering over him.

Before he could reach a decision, his phone started to vibrate on his nightstand. When he reached for it he saw it was a video call from Ike. He cringed the same way he did when Ike used to innocently barge into his room without knocking when he was a teenager, when most of his 'alone' time was spent contemplating masturbation. He considered declining the call, but he hadn't talked to his little brother in weeks and he would feel wretched ignoring him because he was an indecisive, frustrated asshole. So he sat up, and pulled the covers further up his chest before accepting the call.

"Hey, Ike," Kyle said, finding it easy to smile when he saw Ike's face. He was sat in the quad, with bright, Californian sky behind him. "Long time, no see, huh?"

"Totally, man, I've been crazy busy lately," Ike replied. "But hey I caught the Gladiators game last week! You guys really fucking hammered 'em! Me and my buddies were watching at this sports bar, and telling everybody that you were my brother earned me bragging rights for the whole night, dude, it was great!"

Kyle laughed.

"Well, I'm happy to help."

"Yeah, some smartass fuckers didn't believe me at first though. Because of..." Ike gestured to his unmistakably Canadian features, the wide mouth, and the small, dark eyes hidden behind a pair of aviators.

"Sure, sure..." Kyle nodded, rubbing some of the grit out of his eyes.

"But when I showed them all that photo from Hanukkah they believed me. I even got free drinks!"

"That's pretty sweet."

"Yeah..." Ike nodded. "Hey, how's dad holding up?"

"Good, I think," Kyle replied. He had been so busy lately he hadn't visited his parents' house for a while. His mom kept him updated however, with daily phone calls and catch-ups at games. "Mom says he's still taking those anger management classes the AFA directors recommended."

Ike scoffed and shook his head.

"Bet he loves that..."

Kyle chuckled in agreement.

"I think Mom said something about him wanting to take up golf?"

"Jesus, what a clichéd retirement," Ike replied, his nose wrinkling. "He'll be turning the office into a hobby shop and roping mom into Bridge games before we know it."

"You're hardly one to talk about clichés when you're wearing a hockey jersey." Kyle smirked.

"Hey, don't disrespect my culture, bro! I'll tattle on you to that PC president of yours, I don't care if you're my brother."

Kyle laughed and shook his head.

"Anyway, come on, what's up with you, man? How's college?"

"It's great, I'm crushing all my classes," Ike replied. It was a cocky answer, but totally void of arrogance. Kyle knew Ike didn't like bragging about himself unless he could back it up with hard facts. "I'm applying to some internships in Silicon Valley too, I figure it's a great way to get my foot in the door while I'm still at school."

Kyle sighed, remembering the day his parents had bought Ike home. He had been with a nanny when they flew to Canada for a few days, and she had let Kyle sit on the stairs all afternoon on the day of their arrival so he could be there to greet his parents and his new baby brother as soon as they walked through the door. Kyle didn't feel threatened by this new addition, he was excited to have a brother to call his own. He had stared at Ike for days in his crib, willing him to grow up already so he was big enough to play with. Before Kyle knew it, his brother was winning science fairs, and spelling bees, and being accepted to UCLA to study computer sciences, and waving goodbye to his choked up family at the airport. It made Kyle think twice about being careful what you wish for.

"That's amazing, dude. I'm so proud of you, Ike."

And while that was true, Kyle couldn't help but a feel a pang of jealousy. Since he was in middle school, Ike had mapped out a clear route for his young adulthood that was entirely his to alter. Even when he got sidetracked by partying, and girlfriends, he could afford those pit stops and go at his own leisurely pace, and nothing and nobody could stop him from achieving his dreams. And it didn't matter to Ike if it took him five years, ten years, fifteen years to get there, because he had escaped a pressure Kyle had felt on his shoulders all his life.

Kyle had accepted his future long before he even understood what it was, and he was in no doubt that his family had pretty much decided it as soon as he entered the world. Still, Kyle couldn't feel too sorry for himself. After all, his parents didn't  _stop_  him from going to college, and they had beamed with pride at his graduation. Ultimately, he was the one who decided not to pursue his education further. Because the team needed him, his family needed him, and that always came first. He couldn't be bitter over a decision he had made as a responsible adult, and he couldn't let spite infect his relationship with his brother. He wouldn't let it.

"Thanks, man," Ike replied, sheepish for once. "Listen, I gotta go but good luck for the game today! Go Mustangs!"

"Go Mustangs!"

"And fuck the Captains!"

Kyle chuckled and shook his head.

"Talk to you soon, Ike."

Ike smiled before the call disconnected. Kyle, too, was left smiling at the blank screen before he remembered his dream, and those shameful, frustrated feelings came rushing back like a kick to his stomach. He groaned, his shoulders sagging, before flopping back onto the mattress and burying his face in his pillow. After all these years of preparing to be an owner, he was never taught to deal with this, nor did he ever expect to in a million years. After all, what the hell kind of owner gets a crush one of their players?

* * *

The game was due to start in half an hour, and while the fans chugged beer and cheered into the multitude of TV cameras as they waited, and while his players psyched themselves up in the locker room, Kyle was doing the usual rounds of schmoozing and small talk with his mother in the executive lounge. These Sundays were supposed to be leisurely for those special elite attending the games in this exclusive setting, but business was never far from Kyle's mind, and charm and hospitality were the promising seeds for any future deals.

Out of the corner of his eye Kyle saw a familiar figure slip into the room, dabbling in the smart dress code with a pale blue shirt and tie, paired with dark jeans and expensive sneakers. It didn't matter what he was wearing though, he was admired enough to pull the outfit off. Kyle made his way over to him before he could get swamped by the other guests, delighted that there was at least one other person in this room he could have a relaxed conversation with.

"Hey!" Kyle said, grinning as he neared Stan.

"Oh, hey, man." He smiled, before shaking his head. "I mean, sir."

Kyle chuckled, and Stan leaned in.

"I don't know what to call you up here."

Kyle waved him off.

"Just call me Kyle. It's not as formal as it looks."

Stan scoffed.

"No kidding." They both surveyed the room, and saw that most of the guests sipping at their booze were beyond tipsy at this point. "If they don't ease up they're gonna be hammered by halftime."

"They're not so different from the regular fans. Except the bar is free." With that, Kyle noticed Stan was yet to get a drink. "Want me to get you anything?"

"No, no, I can't drink. I'm still on those painkillers."

"Oh, yeah..." Kyle smoothed down his shirt and glanced at his shoes. He could have forgotten why Stan was up here in the first place and not down in the locker room. "How are you feeling?"

"I'm getting better," Stan replied, rubbing at his sore side. "I'm not aching so much, not even when I work out. I feel like by next week I'll be ready to-"

"Stan," Kyle cut in, deadpan. "You know that's not your decision to make."

"But I'll feel fine!"

Kyle sighed.

"You don't know that yet," he replied with a soft, exasperated smile. "You may feel better, but we have no idea what's going on inside."

Stan too, sighed in agreement. He nodded, lips pursed and gaze roaming the carpet.

"I just hate this, Kyle. I don't want to be up here, I want to be down there... I  _should_  be down there."

He pointed at the strip of green visible from where they were standing at the back of the room. It seemed so tiny up there, and Kyle wondered if that was at all demoralising for Stan... to see that vast field, that never-ending stretch of pressure, and pain, and glory, that battlefield, so distant and small.

"I know, I know..." Kyle returned his attention to Stan, wanting to steer them both away from staring any longer. "Besides wishing you were there, how do you feel about the game today? Think we have a shot?"

"Well, sure, I-"

"And be honest." Kyle smiled, arching an eyebrow.

"I feel good about it, really." Stan insisted. "Hopefully we're still energised after last week's victory to really go out on the attack. We've started to click now, find our rhythm again, and I'd hate for us to lose that momentum." He scowled then, and looked away again. "I just hope that prick doesn't fuck it all up..."

Gregory Yardale was their pretentious, snobby second string quarterback who flaunted his prestigious family connections in college football like bragging was going out of fashion - and as if it would actually convince the Mustangs to promote him over Stan. He was younger than the rest of the guys, but with none of the humility of a younger player. Stan's real disdain for him blossomed last year at a charity event, when Gregory had bragged about flirting with Wendy to his teammates even though she had made it clear she wasn't interested. Kyle was just glad they never had to play at the same time, because any confrontation over a fumbled play or missed opportunity would sure to be more explosive than Stan and Eric's previous bust-up.

"Gregory won't fuck it all up, Stan."

"How do you know?"

"Because he may be a douchebag, but there's a reason you're first string and he isn't," Kyle replied. "Those guys respect you, you inspire them to win. Sure, you're both talented, and you both have the leadership skills on paper and in practice to secure victories, but only one of you really connects with the rest of the team. You don't need to worry, Stan. Even when you're not out there, those guys are playing for you."

Stan's scowl softened then, nodding slowly like he was starting to believe it.

"You think so?"

Kyle smiled, exasperated, and nodded.

"Of course I do."

Stan tucked his hands in the back pockets of his jeans and smiled sheepishly.

"I think you've overestimated me, man."

"Oh come on, you're trying to be humble now?" Kyle asked, with a cynical eyebrow raised. "Don't tell me you've bruised that Stan Marsh ego along with your ribs..."

"No," Stan replied, rolling his eyes. "Okay, so maybe you haven't overestimated me... but you've underestimated your own influence?"

"What are you talking about?"

"They're not just playing for me, genius," Stan replied. "They're playing for you too."

Kyle furrowed his eyebrows, heat rising on his cheeks before he could stop it.

"Well, sure they are, I'm the team owner."

Stan rolled his eyes but his smile widened.

"Come on, you've been there since the start of our careers. There's a reason we've been so loyal to this team since you came on board. Even when you weren't running the show, you cared about us like we were everything to you. You still do, and that resonates."

Kyle blinked, avoiding Stan's gaze before his eyes could sting with disbelieving tears. Of course he had hoped, even when his role in the team was decidedly unofficial, that his support, and encouragement, and active interest had sparked motivation in his team. Victories were always a pleasant stroke to his ego even if little credit was owed to him. But to have it confirmed by one of his players, his quarterback, his  _friend_ brought him to a new, humbling reality, whilst sharpening his already acute sense of responsibility. He scratched the nape of his neck, and tried to focus on Stan, still struggling to find the appropriate words.

"Wow, I, I never realised you all felt that way..."

"It's true," Stan replied. "Even Eric, like, he ripped on us, and acted like a total fucking doucehbag-"

He was interrupted by Kyle's short, wry laugh. Laughing about Eric was a quick way to stop any inappropriate thoughts from drifting to the front of his mind.

"But your scary, tough love act got through to him. Now he won't shut up about you."

Kyle's mouth clamped shut and he froze, when he so wanted to press for more.

"R-r-really?" he managed to ask, gritting his teeth at his stutter. He shook his head, tried to compose himself. "He won't?"

Stan shook his head.

"And believe me, it takes one hell of a person to make an impression on a guy like Cartman. He's finally thinking about somebody else for a change."

Kyle nodded, taking slow, considerate breaths as he processed all that Stan had told him. Those wispy, smouldering memories of his dream were still sore burns from playing with hypothetical fire, but the knowledge of his growing influence over Eric was a cooling salve.

* * *

No sooner had Gregory scored the winning touchdown did the stadium swell with deafening, victorious roars from the stands to the executive lounge, where the Mustangs supporters leapt up from their comfy, leather seats and popped bottles of champagne. Unsteady on his feet and cheeks hurting he was grinning so hard, Kyle felt positively giddy. But he hoped that a small, humbled part of him was cherishing this moment for all it represented; a victory snatched from one of their fiercest rivals, one victory closer to the playoffs... one of the defining moments of his still very young career. Suddenly, he was being pulled into Stan's arms.

"Oh my God, dude, that was incredible!" Stan shouted into his ear.

"I can't believe it!" Kyle replied, laughing though he had no idea why. Shock? Adrenaline? Ridiculous contentment? "This is the first time we've beat the Captains in..."

Kyle pulled away and tried to count the number of years on his fingers, recall their history.

"Aw, who fucking cares?" Stan grinned, batting his hand away. "We won, man!"

"We won!" Kyle exclaimed, before they hugged again.

Over Stan's shoulder, Kyle saw his mom bustle over to them with a glass of champagne already in hand. The drink matched the colour of her boucle jacket, in slight disarray as she tried to tug it back in place. With her eyes half-lidded and glassy, 'tipsy' was the polite way to describe her state of inebriation. The pressure must have been palpable to everyone, Kyle considered, if his mom had drank this much during the course of the game.

"You two celebrating over here?" she asked, with a sloppy, lipstick grin.

"We sure are, Mrs Broflovski," Stan replied, clapping Kyle's shoulder.

Her face crumpled as if she were about to cry, and she pressed her hand to her pursed lips.

"Oh, isn't it wonderful!" she exclaimed, before she collapsed into Kyle's arms in what he guessed was meant to be a hug. He held her up before they both crashed onto the carpet, letting her place wet kisses all over his face.

"Bubbe, I'm so happy for you!" she smiled, cupping Kyle's face and squishing his burning cheeks. "And Stan!" she exclaimed, releasing her son and embracing his friend, treating him to a couple of kisses too. "Congratulations, hon! How's that rib? Feeling a little better?"

Stan chuckled, face flushed and eyes wide in disbelief when he nodded.

"Yeah, not too bad, thanks," he replied. "I wish I could be in that locker celebrating though..." he looked at Kyle. "You think I should go down there?"

"Sure!" Kyle grinned. "They'd want to share this with you, Stan."

"Alright..." Stan nodded. "And you're coming with me."

"What?" Kyle asked, eyebrows raised.

He had never visited the locker room after a victory. Strangely, it was the only time he ever felt he should mind his own business, and know his place. Victories were sacred, after all, he didn't want to intrude.

"They'll want to celebrate with you too, dude! We've just beaten our biggest rivals, this calls for a special, congratulatory visit from their owner! Right, Mrs B?" Stan asked, turning to her.

"Right," she replied, with a short, decisive nod, her beehive hairdo wobbling as she did. "Go on, bubbe, celebrate with your team!"

Honestly, Kyle was tempted. But there were still so many people he had to say goodbye to, and commiserations to give to the Captains' owner, plus he had to make sure his mom got home okay... but congratulating and celebrating with his team was important too, something he could easily fit in alongside his other responsibilities, wasn't it?

"Are you sure you're alright up here?" Kyle asked his mom, before he could leave.

"I'll be fine," she replied, waving his concern off. "I'll catch up with you later."

Stan beamed at Kyle, and clapped his back as he led him out of the lounge. Kyle nodded and hid his shy, humbled smile at the brief congratulations given to him and the glasses of champagne raised in acknowledgement as he made his way out of the room. He had always been competitive, but if such momentous victories felt this great then he feared he would become addicted to them... it was a habit he was unsure was sustainable.

* * *

The ground seemed to shudder beneath Kyle's feet as he and Stan neared the locker room, the bass turned up on the team's victory playlist. The only thing that seemed to be louder than the wailing electric guitars was the ecstatic roars of the guys. Stan was bright-eyed and eager to join in with the celebrations, while Kyle was still a little hesitant about seeing what lay on the other side of those locker room doors. He took a small, quiet breath before they entered.

The guys were too busy hugging, shoving each other into lockers, or shouting song lyrics, and "Go Mustangs!" in each other's faces to greet their new party guests. Coach Kern was stood on a bench, and the guys all cheered when he popped a bottle of champagne. They lifted their sports bottles in the air to catch some of the spray, and jostled around him so he could fill their bottles to the brim.

Butters looked over his shoulder, his eyes widening.

"Stan!"

No sooner had Butters shouted his name did the team all rushed towards Stan and Kyle, beaming and throwing their arms around the both of them. Stan readily welcomed the embraces of his teammates, no doubt well-acquainted with the feeling of these tight, proud hugs. Kyle was initially a little stiff, but was soon chuckling at the joyous, profane shouts in his ear, and smiling at the hands clapping his shoulder. It stoked a bigger sense of pride than he was used to observing from the sidelines with his father, and a belonging he knew he wouldn't feel anywhere else.

Gregory was the only player who seemed to be composed, wearing his victory with a smug, unwavering smile. Even with his face speckled with dirt, and his sweaty hair tucked behind his ears he carried himself like a stuck-up, rich boy. His hands were tucked behind his back, but he soon extended one for Kyle to shake.

"Great game, Gregory," Kyle said, returning the handshake.

"Thank you, sir," he replied. He directed his gaze at Stan and raised his voice. "I'm just honoured to be a part of such a special victory."

The handshake slowed, and when Kyle glanced at Stan he saw that same scowl he had on his face before the game. He knew that was exactly the reaction Gregory was going for, and Kyle hated that this handshake was a part of Gregory's goading of him. Stan sighed, rubbed his palms on his jeans and extended his own handshake to Gregory.

"Congratulations, man," he said. "You did an awesome job today."

Gregory studied Stan's hand, before letting Kyle go to grip it.

"Thanks, Marsh."

Before Kyle knew it, he was being pulled into a bear hug by Kenny, Butters, and Clyde and handed a sports bottle. He twisted it in his palm, studying it. Champagne leaked from the hastily screwed on top.

"It's tradition!" Kenny explained.

Kyle could only nod when the room seemed to be growing louder. Clyde stumbled forward, slapping a hand on Kyle's shoulder.

"The Captains can fucking suck it, man!" he shouted in his ear.

"Clyde!" Butters exclaimed, tugging him backwards by his shirt and punching his arm.

"Aw, loosen up, Butters, he's one of us!" Kenny grinned, slinging his arm around Butters' neck and ruffling his hair. He turned to Kyle. "Hey, chief, you gonna come out with us tonight?"

"Oh, no, I, uh, have a meeting tomorrow that-"

"You're at least gonna finish your champagne though, right?"

Kyle glanced at the sports bottle before deciding the only appropriate response would be to chug it. He wrinkled his nose and squeezed his eyes shut at the initial bitter taste, nearly choking when Kenny laughed and hit his back. He had nearly finished drinking the whole thing when he noticed Stan chugging his own bottle out of the corner of his eye.

"Hey!" he said, nudging Stan's sore side. Stan grimaced and clutched the spot, staring at Kyle with a dent in his brow. "What about your medication?"

Stan smiled and shook his head.

"Fuck it, this is worth it!" He lifted his bottle in the air. "Go Mustangs!"

"Go Mustangs!" Everyone cheered back.

Kyle chuckled to himself, and decided to finish his drink at a more leisurely pace now that Kenny and Clyde's attention was drawn to elsewhere. With the rest of the team preoccupied, Kyle realised that one person was yet to come over and talk to him. He cringed at the stinging feeling of rejection, that seemed to make the locker room packed with people seem empty. Even if Eric did approach him, Kyle didn't know if he could carry a conversation with him without blushing and tripping over his words. Any coherent thought burned out immediately when that steamy, shower dream rushed to the front of his mind. This crush, though only small and recently acquired, was far too pathetic for Kyle's liking and something he would have to find a remedy for, and fast.

He felt a tap on his shoulder, and his throat clenched when he saw it was Eric.

"Hey." He grinned, just like in Kyle's dream. God, this was where it actually took  _place_. It was all way too familiar.

Kyle flushed, and he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.

"Hey!" he replied, his voice still too shrill for him to be comfortable with. "Congratulations! You played a great game."

Eric shrugged, eyes roaming above Kyle's head.

"It's no big deal. Shit like this is what you paid for."

With one smartass comment Kyle went from flustered to exasperated. His wry look must've given him away, because Eric started to fidget.

"But thanks..." he added, with a more modest smile on his face.

It was infectious, but Kyle didn't even bother to stop the smile from spreading across his face.

"You're welcome."

Unlike Kenny, Clyde, Butters, or any other player who had talked to him today, Eric stood there even when there appeared to be nothing left to say. It was almost as if he knew Kyle had so much to say to him, even if this wasn't the time or place, even if they were things Kyle would never admit to himself - and certainly not to Eric - out loud. But Eric seemed patient and cocky enough to think that if he just stood there, waiting for Kyle with cool, calm eyes then soon he would know everything about him. Although it was crazy and stupid, Kyle wanted Eric to stick around, wanted to make this silence worth his while, when he could be celebrating with his teammates.

He was wrestling with the conversation he had with Stan in the executive lounge, about Eric's attitude, and their argument in this very locker room, and how Eric couldn't shut up about him... his mind was swimming with questions, and confessions, and apologies and he didn't know where to begin. He cleared his throat, but his voice was still quiet when he spoke.

"So, I've, uh, been thinking about how-"

"Huh?"

Kyle clamped his mouth shut and gritted his teeth. He hated how he was too chicken to speak with a little more confidence, a little more volume.

"Maybe we should go outside?" he suggested.

Eric nodded and followed Kyle out into the corridor. In the airy space, the commotion from the locker room, and the collective murmurings of the fans that drifted in from the nearby players' tunnel were muffled echoes. Kyle only felt the smallest prick of doubt, the silence more confining than the raucous locker room.

"What's up?" Eric asked, taking a step towards Kyle.

Kyle didn't move, shoving his hands into his trouser pockets.

"I heard that you took the guys out for a drink after the Gladiators game..." Kyle smiled. "That's really cool of you, Eric, and that camaraderie shows out on the field. It's no coincidence that we won today-"

"No, it isn't," Eric cut in, matter-of-fact. "We were the best team on that field, and winning is my priority. I'll do whatever it takes."

Kyle nodded, doubting that Eric's hyper-competitive, arrogant shell would ever completely crack. Maybe that was okay, Kyle could never criticise a player for being too driven, after all.

"But they're cool guys," Eric added, smiling in the direction of the locker room. "I like playing alongside them."

Kyle blinked, a little dazed but he offered Eric an appreciative smile.

"Is that all, chief?" Eric asked, arching an eyebrow.

Kyle didn't know how to answer, when what he wanted to say was so difficult and he didn't know if he could muster up the courage or humility to spit it out. He gulped, shaking his head and squeezing his eyes shut.

"No, I, uh, also wanted to apologise for what I said the other day."

It was Eric's turn to blink in surprise, his brows furrowed, and an intrigued smirk on his face.

"Not for what I said in the locker room, because I meant every word and I stand by it..." Kyle paused with a smirk of his own. "And I think you've taken it on board?"

Eric shrugged, rubbing the nape of his neck and avoiding Kyle's gaze. Kyle supposed it would be one of the few times Eric would ever respond to his remarks with silence, but Kyle would aim for more.

"I'm talking about what I said to you during our first practice," he continued. "I was hostile and defensive, and it was uncalled for, but I realised..." Kyle sighed, bracing himself. "You were right."

Eric's eyes widened for a moment, and he dropped his arm to his side.

"What was that?" he asked with a grin, stepping closer.

Kyle almost took a step back, but he rolled his eyes instead.

"You were right..."

Eric bent over so he was right in Kyle's face, cupping his ear. Kyle folded his arms and huffed.

"Sorry, Kyle, you're gonna have to repeat that."

"You were right, asshole!" Kyle snapped.

Eric just chuckled in a goading manner that Kyle hated. He also hated that he had given him what he wanted by snapping. He scowled, smoothing his shirt down while Eric still chuckled to himself. His quick temper was something he wanted to outgrow now that he was owner, but he doubted Eric would let him.

"Sorry, I'm working on that... um, anyway, I  _have_  been trying to prove myself," Kyle said, and it seemed to quieten Eric's chuckles. "There's no use pretending I'm not... and it's been pretty stressful. Still, taking it out on you wasn't professional and I've been kinda embarrassed about it since it happened-"

"It's cool," Eric interrupted, waving him off. "I get it."

Kyle responded with a tight smile. Words seemed unnecessary, even though they both seemed to be willing for an excuse to stay out there together, with no conversation required. But Eric had a team to go back to, and a shower to take, and a press conference to attend, and Kyle had all his responsibilities waiting upstairs... and maybe one little speech to give to his triumphant team.

"So... maybe we should get back in there?"

Eric nodded, though it wasn't so convincing. Kyle turned his back to reach for the door.

"Have dinner with me."

Kyle's hand froze, and when he turned to look at Eric, even he seemed surprised by the sudden invitation.

"Excuse me?"

Eric straightened his shoulders and smiled.

"I'd like to have dinner with you."

Again, Kyle was clueless as to what to say. Unnerving, when all his life he seemed to have an answer for everyone and everything. The implications behind Eric's invitation sent heat rising from his toes to the top of his head, frying his brain. His professionalism was the only coherent thing he could grasp when everything else was so hazy and slippery.

"What, you mean like a..." Kyle choked on the word. "Like a, uh... because I don't think that would be smart."

Eric stared at Kyle hard, a deep dent in his brow.

"What wouldn't be smart?" he asked, before his eyes widened. "Oh, you mean... you thought I meant a  _date_?"

Kyle flinched when Eric said the word aloud. It felt as dangerous as a fork in an outlet, uncontrollable sparks flying from the very utterance of it.

"Well, I-I,I, I didn't-"

"God no, it wouldn't be a  _date_ , it's just..." Eric sighed, staring down at the floor before he looked at Kyle again. Softer, earnest. Kyle's melting heart began to drip. "Taking the guys out for a drink really helped us bond as a team. You said so yourself that today's game was a testament to that. And I just think that us having dinner together would be a good way to get to know each other, and get us on the same page. Honestly, I have some thoughts and ideas that I'd really like to share with you."

Kyle wanted to accept Eric's invitation, it was all he had wanted to hear since Eric joined the Mustangs. But Kyle needed distance from his players if he was ever going to establish himself as an owner, especially if he was starting to have feelings for one of them. It was too risky.

"That's flattering, Eric, but you know you can discuss any ideas you have with Coach Kern," he replied. "It doesn't have to go through me."

Eric shook his head, looking up at the ceiling with a quiet chuckle that made Kyle sour.

"Oh, so  _now_  you decide to back off. Come on, what happened to all that hands-on stuff? Or do you wanna have another locker room showdown with me?"

"Well,  _no_ , but-"

Eric sighed, eyes rolled to the ceiling.

"Look, you don't have to do this, Kyle. If you don't wanna go just-"

"No, I want to go," Kyle interrupted, out of his mouth before he could stop it.

Eric raised his eyebrows, as though he were offering him an out. This was Kyle's chance to make up an excuse, change his mind. But would he be a fool to reject this olive branch Eric was offering him? Couldn't this be a great way to connect with one of his best players? He didn't want to be kept in the dark about Eric's great ideas. He didn't want nasty surprises out on the field, he wanted unity, and harmony, and maybe this was the way to achieve that?

"I really want to go," Kyle insisted, nodding even if a little part of him was still unsure.

"Great." Eric grinned. "How's next Friday?"

Kyle had no plans. He couldn't help but return the grin.

"Perfect."

"I can't wait," Eric replied, brushing past Kyle to return to the locker room.

Kyle stood alone in the corridor for a while, reeling at the plans he had made like he and Eric were mischievous childhood friends with a secret all to themselves.


	6. Chapter 6

Friday night had arrived and Kyle had met Eric at a trendy, upmarket restaurant in the middle of Denver. It was different from the usual country club and hotel restaurants Kyle was used to conducting business dinners at. But no matter how much he tried to convince himself otherwise, he knew this was unlike any business dinner he had attended before. After all, he never daydreamed about them during his precious moments of peace and quiet, and he certainly never spent so long in front of the mirror before he left the apartment, pressing his face to feel for any blemishes, and patting his head for unruly curls. He had chastised himself for being so self-conscious over his appearance because this definitely wasn't a date. But when he saw Eric waiting at the bar, all slick hair, shiny shoes, and wicked, dazzling grin he wished it was.

They sat on the mezzanine level of the restaurant, cosy and private so Kyle didn't feel too apprehensive laughing at Eric's inappropriate jokes, or letting the conversation drift into topics other than football. Kyle had attended too many diners lately that were stuffy and sterilised, and he didn't like to dwell on how long it had been since he had sat opposite somebody who exhilarated him, chemistry bristling between them. This evening certainly wasn't making his crush dissipate in the way that he hoped it would, but at least he was having fun, even when talking business.

"So if it were up to you, you would do away with practice all together, is that it?" Kyle asked.

"No, of course not, that would be a disaster, I'm just saying..." Eric gulped down what was left of his wine as he thought. "Maybe we should dedicate more time to specific exercises on, like, our passing, and footwork, and blocking instead of running plays over and over. Because, I gotta tell you, Coach Kern has been in this game a long time and there's only so many plays you can come up with before they all start to look the same."

"Kinda how people say there's no original notes left because everybody's played them all?"

"Sure, though I don't think Coach Kern is  _that_  old."

Kyle snickered, shook his head.

"Isn't it easier though?" he replied. "To go into the huddle and for Stan to call a play and for you guys to immediately know how the next few minutes are gonna pan out? You don't have to waste precious time thinking, you can just go through the motions, and everybody is clicking. You could score a touchdown with your eyes closed!"

"What about the other team?" Eric argued. "We can't anticipate their every move."

Kyle blinked, sensing a small victory in this little debate... or an opportunity to tease Eric, at least. He leaned forward, his crossed arms resting on the table.

"Is that doubt I'm hearing from the self-confessed best fullback in the AFA?"

Eric arched an exasperated eyebrow at him, practically spelling out that he was onto him.

"Don't try to flatter me, Kyle."

"Believe me, I wasn't."

Eric sighed, leaning forward too.

"Look, I'm not psychic, but with how dependent we are on those predetermined plays the other team may as well be. Watch the tapes, and you'll start to notice similarities." He shrugged. "Sure, we've been lucky recently but I don't want to put any victory down to luck. I want to put it down to my ruthlessness, and my ingenuity, and-"

"Teamwork?" Kyle cut in a little too brightly.

"Yeah, that too," Eric added, voice flat and unconvinced. "And if you, and Coach Kern, and Stan really believe in our teamwork, then you'll let us think on our feet when the pressure is on and the clock is ticking."

"Well, sure we-"

"Duck breast in plum sauce?"

Kyle was interrupted by the waiter.

"Oh, thank you," he replied, reclining as the waiter placed his main course in front of him. Soft fillets of duck with crispy skin drenched in a deep, glistening sauce.

"Looks good," Eric commented.

Kyle nodded in reply with an approving smile of his own.

"And for you, sir, the, uh, 'surf and turf'," the waiter said, placing the largest plate of food Kyle had ever seen in front of Eric. A thick rib-eye steak as long as his forearm sizzled next to a fat lobster tail, accompanied by a side salad and a small silver bucket of French fries, as well as pots of hollandaise sauce and melting butter.

"Holy shit!"

The waiter looked horrified, if as though Kyle had leaned across the table and spat on it. Kyle certainly felt horrified, freezing and pursing his lips. Eric subscribed to no such excruciating silence and was cackling to himself. Kyle jumped when he smacked the table, the cutlery jittering as he did. It seemed to jolt him out his momentary mutism however.

"I mean, uh-"

"Will that be all?" the waiter asked, sharp and with his hands tucked behind his back.

"Could we get some more wine, please?"

Anything to dull the embarrassment.

"Certainly, sir. Enjoy," the waiter replied, though he clearly didn't mean it.

"Thanks," Eric said, still chuckling and wiping a tear from the corner of his eye.

He wasn't done, however, and as soon as the waiter left to fetch their wine Eric was doubled over laughing again, hand resting on his stomach as if that was enough to control it. Kyle scowled, gritting his teeth and giving Eric's ankle a swift kick, not even caring that they had a game this Sunday.

"Knock it off, asshole!"

"Dude, you should see how red you are right now," Eric said, still chuckling. "Like the fucking lobster!"

Kyle cringed, his fingertips burning when he raised a hand to his face. He quickly snatched them away, his eyes soon drawn to that impossibly huge plate of food.

"You're seriously gonna eat all that by yourself?" he asked.

"Yeah? Gotta eat a certain amount of calories a day. You don't get a body like this from sitting on the couch eating Cheesy Poofs," Eric replied, reclining in his chair and patting his stomach.

Kyle scoffed and shook his head, but Eric was practically inviting him to rake his gaze over him. He wasn't exactly an underwear model, with his broad, sloping shoulders, love handles, and round belly. But who wanted superficial muscles when you could have the real thing? Who wanted chiselled features when you were strong enough to knock professional football players on their ass with a quick shove? When you could slide into bed and make your lover sigh in contentment just by wrapping your thick, warm arms around them? Kyle had to bite back such a sigh as his mind wandered, but it was easily extinguished as Eric dug into his meal. He was cutting into his steak and tearing at the meat with the ferocity of a caveman. Kyle smirked to himself, digging into his own meal.

The waiter approached their table again.

"Your wine, sir?"

"Thank you," Kyle replied, watching the waiter top up his glass.

"And for you, sir?" the waiter asked Eric.

He looked up from his meal, and wiped the grease from his mouth with the back of his hand.

"No, thanks," he replied. "I'm driving."

The waiter gave him a short nod before he left the table, and Eric leaned forward with a smirk.

"That wouldn't look good, would it? I can just see the headline: 'Off the  _Reins_ : Mustangs' Fullback Hit With D.U.I.' That's the last thing we need."

"Tell me about it..." Kyle murmured, before taking a bite of his duck.

"You know, you guys really put a wrench in my whole 'Boring, Predictable Mustangs' shtick when those emails were leaked. Suddenly you were the most interesting team in the association!"

Kyle looked up from his plate, a wry smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

"So is that why you only agreed to talk to my dad and the other board members  _after_ the shit hit the fan?"

"What can I say, Kyle?" Eric grinned. "I follow the drama."

"Oh, that definitely bodes well for my scandal-free season, doesn't it?"

"I hate to tell you this, but it was a lost cause from the beginning. I know you're all about the micro-managing, but you can't control people's personal lives, not even your family's." He lowered his voice and spoke to his plate when he said, "I've learned that the hard way..."

Something in Kyle twitched when he realised this was the first time Eric had ever mentioned his dad since he joined the Mustangs. A nerve, or an opportunity, or the thrill of talking about something that for some strange reason had gone unspoken. Maybe because it was so huge that it was beyond acknowledgement? It was an itch now, that begged to be scratched.

"You know, we've never discussed your dad," Kyle said with a smile he hoped was inviting.

Eric looked up from his food, guarded. His eyes flashed like a wild, wary animal exposed.

"Why would we?"

"Oh come on, he was a sports legend!" Kyle replied, too incredulous to notice any discomfort. "An icon! That must've been pretty surreal... pretty sweet too though, right?"

Eric shrugged, shoulders loosening.

"You could say that..."

"My dad loved him..." Kyle smiled, wistful. He remembered overhearing his dad on the phone in his office, praising Jack Tenorman throughout every congratulatory call he received after a victory. He remembered the serene, noble figure he cast on the field, even if his personal life was another matter entirely. "Everybody did! He was like a superhero in our house. Did you ever think about him at all? When you signed the deal to play for us?"

"Nope," Eric replied, not even looking at Kyle.

He faltered a little then, as if some sparkling, sentimental illusion he had of Eric had been shattered. Of course he had seen how Eric tried to distance himself from his famous father in press conferences and interviews, but wasn't it just bravado? A way to curate his image and yes, maybe even motivate himself to be the best player he could possibly be? Jack Tenorman's presence still permeated the Mustangs and surely Eric couldn't ignore that? Could feel it pressing on his shoulders when he finalised the deal? Kyle had to know, he had to understand when perhaps he had judged too soon.

"Then why did you join? Money and deals aside, why us?"

Eric looked up from his food, and it was as if that cautious animal was stepping out of the undergrowth. Kyle waited. But there was no way in hell Eric would allow himself to appear vulnerable for too long. He soon shrugged with that trademark, deflecting nonchalance.

"My contract was almost up at Philly," he replied. "We were negotiating, but my agent and I both knew I was worth more than what they were asking for. I had tons of offers from other teams, but yours was the best."

Kyle's shoulders drooped. He was still none the wiser. His eyes drifted to his lap.

"Plus, I figured it would be nice to be home," Eric added. "And the place I've got now is way doper than the place I had in Philly."

Kyle lifted his gaze, chuckling.

"Where is it?" he asked, sort of grateful to be moving the conversation along even though he was the one who brought it up.

"Cherry Creek."

Kyle nodded, impressed.

"You wanna see it?"

Kyle tensed, eyes widening. The invitation was unexpected, but not unwelcome.

"What? Now?"

"Why not?" Eric replied. "We could go there after dinner, and I could give you the grand tour."

Just like his invitation to dinner, Kyle was undoubtedly tempted but also unsure. He was wrestling with what was appropriate and what was not, what he needed to say and what he wanted to do. A classic head or heart conundrum. Right now, sat across the table from Eric, with his offer in front of him, he felt like he was tangling himself up in knots with his dilemma.

His eyes flitted across the tablecloth as he contemplated his decision until he met Eric's eyes, and his alluring, coaxing smile. He couldn't argue with it, could never refuse it. It unnerved him slightly, wondering if he had enough willpower to deny Eric  _anything_. If he could ever let himself believe Eric could like him back. That reassuring modesty was all the encouragement he needed.

_Fuck it._

"Alright." Kyle smiled. "Sounds great."

* * *

After dessert and a car ride that was decidedly quieter than the rest of the evening, they arrived at Eric's house in Cherry Creek. Just like the other houses in the leafy, affluent suburb, Eric's house was huge and gated. But unlike his neighbours, who preferred classic red brick and white columns, quaint shutters and jutting balconies, Eric's house was slick and modern. Kyle imagined it shining a peerless, blinding white when the sun hit it, the long, glass windows sparkling. There was no hallway, visitors instead stepped into the huge, open plan kitchen, living and dining room. With its gleaming surfaces, massive flat-screen TV, and fireplace that roared with artificial flames at the press of a button, it was as flashy and glamorous as Kyle expected Eric's house to be, yet he was still in awe.

"Wow..."

"Pretty awesome, huh?" Eric grinned. "And this is just the ground floor. If you thought all this was sweet, I've got a state of the art gym, a gaming room,  _and_  a movie theatre in the basement."

Kyle scoffed and rolled his eyes, peeling them away from the twinkling chandelier and opulent, wingback chairs at the dining table.

"God, you really bought this house just so you could brag about it, didn't you?"

"Something like that," Eric replied with a shrug. "But the best part's upstairs."

Without another word Eric made his way over to the staircase, and Kyle just as silently followed him.

"This is really starting to sound like  _Cribs_ ," he said. "Please don't tell me this is where 'the magic happens.'"

"Ha! You wish!"

Kyle was glad Eric had his back to him. At least he didn't have to hide his shy smile that would've given him away immediately.

"But, uh, between you and me, this place hasn't been so 'magical' lately," Eric added.

Kyle stopped, that damn, curious nerve twitching again and prompting a million questions to flood his mind. Why would Eric admit that? Did he trust Kyle that much after the short time they've known each other? What did he even mean by that admission anyway? What did it mean for Kyle? Just like before, he  _had_ to know.

"Why... why would you tell me that?"

Eric paused, turning around with a scintillating smile that almost sent Kyle falling backwards. He gripped the banister and squeezed.

"Because I've been too busy kicking ass for  _your_  team to find the time to hook up with anyone," he replied, turning around and continuing their ascent before Kyle could ask any more questions.

They were greeted by wide, glass double doors at the top of the stairs, which Eric swung open. He stepped aside with a gentlemanly manner that Kyle couldn't help but smirk at. An army of small spotlights flickered to life by motion sensors when Kyle entered the room, illuminating a massive pool that stretched all the way to a huge, near floor-length window. If Kyle didn't know any better he would've thought it was an infinity pool, plunging into the backyard. The whole neighbourhood seemed to be stretched out before them. The warm glow of houses and streetlights shone as bright as the faint smattering of stars on the horizon, towards the formidable silhouettes of mountains that cut through the deep blue night like constellations, robbing Kyle's breath.

"Oh my God..."

"Right?" Eric asked, stood beside him.

"That view!"

" _Right_?"

"It's incredible!" Kyle said with a disbelieving laugh.

"Yeah, it is," Eric replied. "Honestly, this is what sold me on the place."

Kyle managed to tear his eyes away from the stunning view to glance at Eric, just as spellbound by him. It was a pleasant revelation, that somebody so arrogant could be humbled by something as simple as a lovely view. Kyle smiled, he was learning so much this evening. Eric soon glanced at him with a smile to make Kyle jolt but they held each other's gazes as if they were weightless.

"You know the best way to appreciate the view?" Eric asked.

Kyle shook his head.

"Getting in the pool."

Before Kyle could even reply he noticed Eric already unbuttoning his shirt. He froze, having no idea where he should look, but knowing exactly where he  _wanted_  to look, and that was at Eric's hands popping open each button.

"What? Uh-uh-are you serious?"

"Sure I am," Eric replied, on another plain of reality all together, it seemed. "Wanna join me?"

Again, before Kyle could think of a reasoned, firm response Eric pulled his shirt from his shoulders. All thoughts were immediately directed to Eric's wide chest, bulging biceps covered with a generous layer of fat, and broad, and freckled shoulders that Kyle's imagination could never do justice to. Kyle bit his tongue to kill the response dying to leap from his lips, and instead offered up the answer it pained him to give. Nobody said doing the right thing was easy, after all.

"God, no..."

"Come on, Kyle, it's only a quick dip!" Eric pressed, just wanting Kyle to break. "What's the worst that could happen?"

Kyle could never admit it out loud. But he had to try and do so in a way that wouldn't bruise his pride, or wreck the still possible chance of a mature, professional friendship between them.

"Wuh-well, I, uh-"

"You're not scared, are you?"

It was the worst thing Eric could've said, especially when he had moved onto unbuckling his belt. Kyle couldn't resist a challenge no more than he could resist a cocky attitude, and striking, golden eyes. Eric's impulsive, reckless nature was catching as well as endearing and Kyle didn't want Eric to think he was afraid of anything, let alone an invitation for a quick dip in his pool. Kyle was strong enough to keep this professional, wasn't he? And being professional didn't mean he couldn't have some ill-advised fun. It was startling how much his mind leading him astray was beginning to sound like Eric.

"No," Kyle replied, firm. He started hastily unbuttoning his own shirt before he could change his mind, before some panicked, cautious voice could snap him out of it.

But Eric's bright eyes, and surprised, impressed grin would quell any doubt. In fact, it only spurred Kyle on, encouraging him to reveal more and more of himself until he was stripped down to his bare bones. Being vulnerable and bare never seemed so powerful.

"I could, uh, get you some trunks but... they may be a little big."

Kyle's shirt was already on the floor, and he was too busy kicking off his shoes and unzipping his pants to look at Eric.

"Won't be necessary."

"Then what do you plan on wearing?"

Kyle finally looked at Eric with a wicked grin, emboldened by the look of disbelief on Eric's face.

"Nothing," he replied, kicking his pants off from his ankles.

Eric was yet to take his pants off, no doubt distracted by Kyle's disrobing. It just turned Kyle on even more, a semi in his boxers that was totally visible but he didn't care. Right now, he didn't care about his responsibilities that existed beyond this house. The only future he was concerned with was the rest of this evening and where he and Eric would land up. An encouraging, indignant spark ignited inside Kyle, when he thought of how long it had been since he had been on a date or liked a guy as much as he liked Eric who, with his stunned, parted lips and wandering gaze, liked Kyle too. Why shouldn't he have some fun? Didn't he deserve it? Why shouldn't he take this chance? To see where it could go? That one, simple fact, those tempting questions, only made Kyle bolder. With a deep, fortifying breath, he hooked his fingers around the waistband of his boxers and pulled them down. His cock sprung free as his underwear fell to his ankles, and as he stepped out of them he saw that Eric had finally taken his pants off. His eyes were trained on Kyle, his own semi in his underwear.

"What are you waiting for?" Kyle asked, stepping forward.

"Huh?"

Eric blinked, managing to peel his eyes away from Kyle's crotch.

"Aren't you gonna lose the boxers? I'm not gonna be the only one skinny-dipping."

Eric smirked, accepting Kyle's challenge.

"Fair enough..."

Kyle chuckled, shaky and quiet, and his smile trembled at the corners. His heart was pounding harder than it had when he had undressed, so excited he could barely stand it. Eric pulled his boxers down and Kyle's eyes were instantly drawn to his cock, thick and half-hard. His mouth felt heavy and slack as he stared. He had little time to admire it, however, before Eric kicked his boxers from his ankles and dove into the pool, near perfectly were it not for the tremendous splash he created. Some of the water sprayed on Kyle, while some spilled over and ran under Kyle's feet, cool and inviting. Eric soon emerged from the water, hair slicked back and dripping onto his shoulders. Kyle grinned and chuckled to himself, while Eric broke out in a wide smile. He swam closer to Kyle, propping his elbows up on the edge of the pool, folding his arms.

"That was cool, huh?"

"It was alright," Kyle replied. "I don't think I have to worry too much about Team USA stealing you from under my nose though."

"Who wants to be a pussy diver, anyway?"

Kyle chuckled, petering off into silence as he watched Eric rake his gaze over him. He was staring at him as though he were a god, and standing over him, naked and with the rippling, blue water reflecting on his skin, Kyle did feel like a powerful figure carved out of marble, just waiting to be worshipped.

"Just get in here already..." Eric said, husky enough that Kyle had to obey.

"Alright, move aside."

Just like when they entered the room, Eric stood aside and waited. Kyle dove in with nowhere near the technique or finesse of Eric, his legs buckling before he even hit the water and creating a loud splash. He suddenly felt infallibly mortal again. He shook his head as he emerged, water flying from his soaked curls. He smiled at Eric, a small grin on his face.

"How was that?" Kyle asked, like he didn't already know.

Eric's shoulders shook as he laughed.

"Fucking pitiful."

Kyle tried to scowl, splashing Eric in the hope it would disguise how he was aching to return his infectious laugh. Eric retaliated and a mini battle commenced, the sound of crashing water and their glinting laughter echoing in the airy acoustics of the room. Kyle almost forgot that their reason for stripping off and diving in the pool in the first place was to appreciate the view. It caught the corner of his eye and he was immediately mesmerised by it, swimming towards the window without another word.

The water lapped at the glass, as if it were dying to reach an imaginary, picturesque shore. Kyle lifted his hand, his fingertips meeting the window. He wished he could connect every stray star and make some constellations of his own. A small, humbled smile flickered at the corner of his mouth, and he inched forward a little more. Suddenly, he felt a thick arm coil around his middle and tug him backwards.

"Woah, not so close!"

Kyle yelped, loud and shrill, and the horrid echo bounced off the walls. It was only drowned out by Eric laughing his ass off, and Kyle had to wonder what it was about his embarrassment that he found so hilarious.

"Don't fucking do that, asshole!" Kyle shouted, elbowing him in the ribs. Eric huffed. "What's wrong with you?"

"If you keep physically assaulting me like this I'm gonna have to report you, Kyle."

Kyle scoffed.

"Yeah, good fucking luck with that."

They were soon enthralled by the view again, wrapped up in unspoiled silence.

"It's beautiful, isn't it?" Kyle asked.

"Yeah... it is..."

When Kyle caught Eric's reflection in the window, he saw Eric completely enchanted - not by the view - but by  _him_. His skin prickled with heat, and his heart thudded in his ears. He remembered then, that Eric's arm was still wrapped around him, comfortable, and perfect. Eric's eyes met Kyle's in their reflection, and their gazes soon collided like magnets, fusing and searching for something in their deep, unyielding stares. Eric, however, soon sought solutions in Kyle's mouth, his gaze wandering to his lips.

"Am I out of line here?" he asked, voice threadbare.

Kyle swallowed, choking on an answer. He simply shook his head.

Tightening his grip, Eric pulled Kyle flush to him, his cock prodding at Kyle's lower back. Kyle bit back a gasp, his chest already heaving with rapid, anticipatory breaths in Eric's one-armed embrace. With his free hand, Eric held Kyle's chin between his thumb and index finger, guiding Kyle to his mouth and tilting his head so their lips could meet. His hot breath was like a ghost against Kyle's parted lips, so close in his hazy, lidded vision that Kyle could hardly make out his features. Their lips brushed together, more gentle and light, and at a more awkward angle than Kyle had ever imagined. But the contact was still electric and combustible enough to light a fuse that started in his throat and burned and tingled all the way down through his chest, heart, guts, crotch, through every single nerve ending until it reached his toes. He gasped, and Eric's hot, ragged breath shuddered against his lips. Their lips soon reconnected, vying for a firmer, deeper clasp. Kyle craned his neck, trying to push his tongue into Eric's mouth and Eric encouraged him, pulling Kyle closer until his nose was buried in Kyle's cheek and he was sucking at his bottom lip. With a frustrated groan, Kyle twisted out of the uncomfortable position and broke the clumsy kiss, bobbing in the water as he looped his arms around Eric's neck and smashed their mouths together. His eyes rolled back and closed with pleasure as he finally got to part Eric's lips with his tongue. And as he welcomed Eric's embrace, sinking into the arms wrapped around his back, it hit him how much he had wanted to be in this position for weeks, and how relieved he felt to finally be there.

With a short groan that reverberated in Kyle's throat, Eric pressed him up against the window. The water swelled around them and the reinforced glass shuddered as Kyle was pushed against it. Their eager mouths never separated. In fact their deep, relentless kisses grounded Kyle when his head was whirring and his heart was threatening to pound right out of his chest. They sampled each other's lips like tempting, delectable desserts kept just out of reach, locked away and forbidden, hastily devoured when finally given the chance. Still, every catch of breath, every desperate grasp for air felt like a fleeting opportunity to call this off. They could still turn this around, it wasn't too late for some scrap of decorum and professionalism to be salvaged. But Kyle was becoming more and more addicted with every press of Eric's full lips, with every rough, passionate, earnest kiss they shared. Eric's hand moved from beside Kyle's head to his thigh, sinking his fingers into the meaty flesh and hooking Kyle's leg around his hip. He copied the action on Kyle's right leg and pressed their bodies flush, their erections rubbing together under the water. Kyle's lips parted against Eric's with a broken, shaky moan, tongue still in his mouth. He tugged at Eric's hair with one hand, while sliding his left hand from his shoulder to his neck, brushing his jaw with his thumb. Tilting their heads, they deepened their lip-crushing kiss.

Eric reached for their cocks, and even though his pumps were clumsy and ineffective, Kyle still moaned, loud and touch-starved. His fingernails scraped at Eric's damp skin and he bucked his hips encouragingly into Eric's hand. Still, blinking away his lusty haze, he realised that he didn't want this tryst to reach its climax here. He may have dipped his toes into his adventurous side this evening, but he was hardly an exhibitionist who wanted to be fucked against a window for Eric's neighbours to see. But he did  _want_ to be fucked. Every day for the rest of his life he would be in charge of something,  _own_  something, feel the weight of enormous responsibility on shoulders, and if tonight really was about being carefree, weightless, then wouldn't it feel great to submit? Still, he wanted it to be on  _his_  terms, and sex in a swimming pool wasn't included on that list.

"Wait..." Kyle gasped, pulling Eric away from him when he kept getting interrupted by his kisses. "Wait, not here..."

Eric nodded, releasing their cocks and wrapping his arms around Kyle's waist again as he pulled him forward. They glided through the water, plush, smouldering lips never separating. In fact, Eric had to practically pry his lips from Kyle's when they reached the small ladder, nipping at each other, and grinning at their futile efforts. Kyle refused to make it easy for him. Eventually, they parted and Kyle pursed his lips, feeling just how hot and kiss-bruised they were. It was only now, with his body quivering, and his cock stiff and aching did he realise how much of a mess Eric had made of him.

Kyle watched Eric step onto one rung and hoist himself up, the ladder creaking under his weight. Once out of the pool, Eric held out his hand for Kyle to take. Smirking, Kyle held Eric's hand and only had to put one foot on the ladder before he was being pulled out of the water. Before Kyle could swoon at his strength, however, he slipped on the wet surface and head-butted Eric's chest. As sure as clockwork, Eric laughed his usual wicked laugh, but Kyle surprised himself by chuckling too. He rested his forehead on Eric's chest, still thrumming with laughter, and smiled at the strange, delightful sensation. Soon, he felt Eric's fingers running through his curls, coaxing him to raise his head. When their eyes met, Kyle was greeted by the gentlest, softest smile he had ever seen on Eric's face. His wet hair dripped onto Kyle's nose and he brought their lips together again. Kyle sighed with his whole body.

"God, Kyle, you're the most un-coordinated person I've ever met," Eric said in between kisses, grinning. "In fact." He stole another kiss. "I'm not sure you could make it to my room without falling over your own feet like a dumbass."

Kyle pinched his arm, but still smiled up at him when their lips slid off each other.

"So what do you suggest?" he asked.

Eric smirked, his eyes lidded and thoughtful before he wrapped his arm around Kyle's middle and hoisted him up. Kyle dug his fingers into Eric's arms as his feet left the floor.

"Come on..." he murmured, their lips crashing when they were face to face.

Kyle looped his arms around Eric's neck again, fingers fisting his hair and clawing into the soft flesh of his back. Eric hitched him up again, and Kyle clamped his legs around his waist, aching already from accommodating Eric's girth. Eric clutched and tugged at Kyle's hair while his other hand moved to Kyle's ass, squeezing his firm cheek. He carried Kyle out of the room, shouldering one of the doors open and hitching Kyle up again as he carried him down the hallway and to his bedroom. Eric climbed onto his bed, Kyle balanced on his lap as his knees sank into the mattress. Soon, Kyle's back hit the mattress with a thud, the springs bouncing beneath him. He felt as though the breath had been snatched from his lungs as he stared up at Eric. His head was resting on a mountain of plump pillows, yet it whirred as he admired the tall, handsome athlete sat between his knees, who possessed the strength to break him into a million little pieces, with eyes dark and smouldering enough to hypnotise him into doing whatever he wanted. Kyle didn't need to be hypnotised, Eric's small, hungry smile was persuasive enough. His chest heaved, his mouth agape and close to salivating at the sight of Eric's throbbing cock. A bead of pre-cum forming from the head. Eric grabbed Kyle's ankles and pulled him further down the mattress. His legs were spread, and Kyle's eager cock twitched. Eric's smile never wavered.

"Tell me what you want, Kyle..."

He trailed his fingers up Kyle's calf. The room was filled by the twinned sound of their panting. Kyle could hardly think. But he didn't need to. Everything inside him was practically screaming the answer.

"You," he eventually replied. He groaned, eyes squeezed shut, and he smacked his wrists against the mattress in frustration. "Just fuck me already."

Invigorated by his request, Kyle sat up and squeezed the nape of Eric's neck, pulling him to his lips. Eric gladly returned the kiss, reaching for Kyle's forearm and guiding them to the mattress. It was the first time Kyle was feeling Eric's weight on him - comfortable, and intoxicating, like being wrapped up in a thick comforter, or lounging in a thick cloud of incense. Kyle hooked his leg around Eric's back, and tried to press them closer together with his heel. Eric too, sought to create more friction between them, grinding his hips and teasing their leaking cocks with relief. Kyle gasped when Eric decided to deviate from their lips, pulling his tongue out of Kyle's mouth and instead pecking at his neck, dragging his tongue down his sternum, and finally closing his mouth over his nipple. He rolled the other hard bud between his thumb and index finger. Kyle arched his back, moans spilling freely from his mouth while Eric only sucked, and ground his hips, harder. After what felt like an eternity of lonely nights at the office, and orgasms at his own hand (literally), Kyle felt like he could frazzle and short-circuit from arousal overload. Luckily, he had Eric's soaked hair to grasp, and his wide, writhing back to bury his fingers in (that was no doubt now decorated with pink indentions of his fingertips) to ground him in reality.

Eric had captured every one of his senses. Even with his eyes fluttering in pleasure, his image was burned behind Kyle's eyelids. His panting breaths now glistened on Kyle's skin, his moans plucking at his heartstrings. His lips were the first part of Kyle he claimed, his taste now smeared all over his mouth. And his  _scent_. Kyle never knew how lovely a combination of sweat, cologne, and chlorine could be. And then there was his touch... with how far gone he was right now, Kyle would give up everything to have Eric's hands and lips roaming his body like this for eternity.

"You have no idea how badly I've fucking wanted you, Kyle," Eric confessed, voice taut and lips brushing against his shoulder. "I couldn't stand it any longer. Ever since that first meeting with your dad I knew you were the most...  _unnh fuck_..." they both moaned, long and sweet, at a particularly mind-melting roll of Eric's hips. He mouthed at Kyle's shoulder. "Th-the most gorgeous guy I'd ever met and now... shit, you're naked in my bed, and moaning, and..." he growled. "Oh fuck, Kyle, just say it. Tell he how much you want me..."

Kyle cried out and dragged his fingers across Eric's back when he bit his throat and pinched his nipple, demanding an answer.

"I want you!" Kyle cried. "God, Eric, I want you more than anything! Please... please just-"

Kyle paused when Eric lifted himself off him with a grunt, leaning over to delve into his nightstand. With Eric otherwise preoccupied, Kyle took the opportunity to sit up and plant his own kisses on places otherwise untouched by his yearning lips. He kissed and nipped at his neck, mouthed at his shoulder before he reached his chest, laving at his nipple. To Kyle, Eric was just as delectable as a melting, strawberry scoop in summer. Eric soon found a condom and a small tub of lube, and their mouths collided again. They kissed open-mouthed, tonguing at each other's lips as they fell back onto the mattress. Eric opened the bottle of lube and slicked two of his fingers, forehead pressed against Kyle's and never looking anywhere but deep into his eyes. Kyle couldn't help but feel nervous, but somewhere in Eric's gaze was an imploration to trust him, and Kyle did.

Suddenly, Eric was pushing one thick finger inside him. Kyle cried out, and too soon Eric pushed a second finger in. Kyle cried out again, arching from the mattress and inexplicable tears sprung into his eyes.

_"Aaah_   _wait! Wait!"_

It wasn't totally uncomfortable but maybe too fast. He may have wanted this, but he was still out of practice.

"You okay?" Eric asked, eyes wild with concern as they searched Kyle's face.

"Yeah, I just..." Kyle squirmed, suddenly embarrassed. "It's been a while, so..."

"Slower?"

Kyle nodded, blinking away the mist of tears in his eyes.

"Alright." Eric smiled, placing a kiss on Kyle's lips just gentle enough to squeeze his heart with affection. "Just tell me when you wanna go faster."

Kyle nodded, and Eric started to finger him with slower, more tentative thrusts. Any discomfort soon started to melt, thawing out that familiar pleasure. Kyle whimpered, not caring how he sounded, or looked when he spread his legs wider.

"Like that?"

Again, Kyle could only nod, throwing his head back onto the abundance of pillows and moaning to the ceiling. With his neck exposed, Eric returned to kissing Kyle's throat, almost fucking purring like a self-satisfied cat. He suckled at the skin between his teeth as he pushed his fingers deeper. He soon found Kyle's prostate, sending Kyle's eyes to fly open and cry out unintelligibly. He clutched and squeezed at Eric's shoulder and chest like he could tap out his demands in Morse code on his skin.

" _Now!_ " he begged when he finally found the words. He felt like he could cry again. " _Oh!_  Oh God, fuck me now!"

Eric grinned into his neck with a sharp, hard bite.

"With pleasure," Eric spoke to the now surely bruised skin. He growled. "Fuck, I love it when you say that..."

Kyle whined when Eric pulled his fingers out of him. He was drenched with sweat and panting like he had been fucked already. He'd be near comatose by the time they were finished.

"Say it again," Eric demanded, his eyes and his smile were glinting.

"Fuck me," Kyle replied, hoarse.

He watched Eric reach for the condom on his nightstand, his eyes following his every movement.

"More..."

"Fuck me," Kyle offered. His mouth hung open, fascinated, as Eric tore off the wrapper, rolled the condom over his heavy, dripping cock and slathered it with a generous coating of lube. "Fuck me, Eric, please..."

Eric parted Kyle's legs even further, and pushed them back so his knees were almost touching his shoulders. Such a compromising, and vulnerable position should've unnerved him, but any apprehension was soon seized by undeniable excitement, making him quiver. The way Eric was looking at him made Kyle feel more coveted than any trophy Eric could ever win. His cock was poised right by his opening. Soon they would be connected, intertwined, throbbing. Kyle bit back a giddy smile. Raising his hips a little more, Eric then guided his cock to Kyle's entrance. Kyle cried out as Eric began to stretch him until he was balls deep inside him. Eric groaned with every inch, eyes squeezed shut.

"Come on," he said with a huff. "You can take it, Kyle..."

He slowly started to pull out all the way until he shoved his cock back in without preamble. Kyle howled, throwing his head back and clawing his fingers down Eric's tensed biceps. He squeezed his arms and moaned with every rough, deep thrust. Their noises of pleasure were tripling, and punctuating every second when Eric started to fuck Kyle faster. Kyle threw his head back when Eric found his prostate again, moaning louder than ever and drowning out thoughts of anything other than how fucking fantastic he felt. It were as though he could feel all the stress and pressure unravel between his shoulders when his cock was dribbling pre-cum on Eric's belly. Why worry when he could focus on that glorious ache of his legs stretched wide?

"That's it, Kyle... fuck yeah, that's it... you're so hot... so tight...  _unnh fuck_... you want it harder, huh?"

"Fuck yeah!" Kyle cried.

With a grunt, Eric rolled his hips faster, harder.

" _Aaah, more_!"

Tilting their position slightly, Eric fucked Kyle into the mattress. Kyle could hear the weary springs squeaking beneath them, and his slick skin burned with friction from the sheets. They both cried out when Eric lowered his body onto Kyle's, pushing his cock deeper inside him and Kyle's ankles were suspended in the air. Eric pressed his glistening forehead to Kyle's, their drenched hair sticking together. They panted into each other's mouths in time with Eric's thrusts. Kyle grabbed a handful of Eric's hair and smashed their numb lips together. They shared a deep, wet kiss before they needed to breathe again. Their tongues met and brushed together as they panted and rocked. Kyle's balls drew tight as his climax approached, his breath laced with bracing moans. His toes curled into the sheets and he tightened around Eric. It was enough to send him over the edge.

" _Aaah! Aaah, Kyle!_ " he cried. "You're gonna make me -  _Aaah, fuck!"_

Eric arched, his face contorting in pleasure as he came with long, hard thrusts that made Kyle follow soon after. His whole body seized and stiffened as he came, screaming and sobbing as he gripped the sheets so hard he pulled them from the mattress. A heavy, white arch flew between their bodies and landed on both their chests.

Eric's chest was heaving, watching Kyle ride out his orgasm with the same wide-eyed fascination Kyle had when watching him put the condom on. Kyle was still blinking the sparkling stars out of his vision, still searching for his breath, when Eric collapsed into his arms. Heavier, glistening with sweat, but still comfortable. Their lips smushed together in a hot, sloppy kiss, and Kyle wrapped him up in a feeble, shaking embrace. Even now, exhausted and quivering, they still couldn't get enough of each other. Eric was yet to pull out of Kyle when he turned over, lying on his side with Kyle half on top of him. Their kisses melted into elastic, languid smiles and their hands roamed each other's bodies. Kyle cupped Eric's adorably chubby cheek and weaved his fingers through his sweaty hair, still grinding on the softening cock inside him. Eric's hand was wandering his thigh and ass. A mellow and perfect moment, it made Kyle's heart steady into a content rhythm.

"Shit, hold on a sec..." Eric said, before reluctantly pulling Kyle away from a little.

Kyle whined as Eric pulled out of him. It was another ache he hadn't experienced for a while, and it was only now did he realise how much he missed it. Kyle nuzzled into the pillows, adoring the mingled scent of the both of them that was buried there. His limbs were still tangled with Eric's as he watched him pull the condom off. He aimed it at the trash can on the other side of the room but it missed, landing a couple of inches away from it. He shrugged.

"Screw it."

Kyle chuckled, though he didn't know why he found it funny. Eric grinned in return, lazy and yet glinting with his usual mischief. Maybe it was the shock that this had actually happened? Kyle was glad that it was a sort of disbelief they could laugh at. He prayed regret and anxiety wouldn't follow. Though right now it was hard to believe that something that felt so incredible could ever twist into a bad thing.

Eric sighed.

"That was..."

"Yeah..." the word slipped past Kyle's lips before he could stop it. "It was."

They chuckled, unable to stop smiling or looking into each other's eyes.

"We don't have to talk about it now, do we?" Kyle asked. Smiles and silence seemed to be enough. It was all that he wanted.

For a second, Eric's face was clouded by seriousness, unsure for the first time.

"No," he replied, shifting closer with a smile. "We can do whatever the hell we want."

Kyle thought about his clothes stranded by the pool, and bit back a groan.

"I don't wanna move..."

"Then stay here."

Kyle raised his eyebrows, but nothing on Eric's face suggested his invitation wasn't sincere.

"Okay..." Kyle smiled. No way was he ready for this night to be over, or for this high to end.

The last thing Kyle saw before he drifted off into the deepest, best sleep he'd had in months was Eric's handsome, lazy grin.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know I've only just began to update this story regularly again, but the next update probably won't be for a couple more weeks while I take part in the kymanweek that's happening on tumblr from the 1st to the 7th of July. I'm pretty excited about participating, and it's sure to be a lot of fun and produce some great Kyman content! That being said, I'm still very excited about this story (especially after this development!) and while this haitus is only going to be short, I don't want you guys to think that I'm forgetting about it, because believe me I'm not! Anyway, thank you so much for reading! I hope you enjoyed this latest chapter and I'd love to hear your thoughts!


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Finally, a new chapter! Thank you for being so patient, and I hope this chapter - though small - is worth the wait! I hope you enjoy and, as always, thank you for reading! I'd love to hear your thoughts!

Kyle was still smiling into the pillow when he woke up the next morning. His nose was buried in the scent of last night and he inhaled it gladly before rolling over onto his back. He squeezed his eyes shut at the unwelcome daylight flooding the room, stretching as he yawned and immediately regretting doing so when he was still pretty sore. He winced, and expected some smartass, arrogant comment from the man lying next to him, but silence greeted him. No snoring, or breathing, nothing at all to suggest Eric was still beside him. Rubbing the sleep from his eyes, Kyle turned his head to find that Eric's side of the bed was in fact vacant, quilt folded over and the sheets still creased.

Before Kyle could question it, he scratched at his chest and grimaced at the dried cum there. He sat up as he tried to scrub it off his with his wrist, not wanting to root through Eric's night stand for some tissues even after all the things they had shared last night. Even after he had seen him bare, heard him plead, felt his hot, sultry skin beneath his lips. Kyle struggled to bite back a smile as he reminisced. But it wilted when he saw the torn condom wrapper on the nightstand, and an opened tub of lube next to it. Another reminder of what had happened last night, and more terrifyingly, where he was now; naked, in the bed of one of his players. It wasn't shame that struck him like lightening in his gut, but fear. Fear of the consequences, the complications, the variables of all the different ways this could unfold. Nerves tingling with the aftershock of that sudden anxious strike could only whisper the worst case scenarios. He could drag the team back into another scandal, lose them altogether even, shatter his legacy, and break his family's heart.

No. Whatever it took, that wasn't going to happen. He wouldn't let it happen, and he hoped Eric would co-operate too, be a team player and stand by his side as they figured out what the hell they should do... hell, what it all  _meant_. Even if that meant giving this up. Disappointment gnawed at him, frowning because it seemed so cruel, such a waste, that last night may just be the last time. Despite his concerns, Kyle hated how much he didn't want that, and what if Eric felt the same? All Kyle knew was that he needed to talk to him before anxiety had him cowering under the sheets. He swung his legs over the side of the bed, and when he stood up remembered that his clothes were abandoned by the pool. He flushed as he recalled Eric's gentle, inviting smile, his legs stretched around his waist, and their mouths clasped together.

Still, even if it was only a short distance between Eric's bedroom and the pool he wanted to cover up. If he ran into Eric out in the hallway any attempts at a serious conversation wouldn't hold much weight if he was stood there naked. His eyes searched the room for a towel, or even an ill-fitting pair of sweatpants just to protect his modesty (as if he and Eric could ever be modest or coy around each other now). Instead, he found a purple bathrobe hanging on a hook behind the door.

His thumb practically disappeared into the deep, plush material as he stroked it, taking it from the hook and slipping it on. It sat heavy on his shoulders, and the hem skimmed the floor. He found the black cord and wrapped it tightly around his waist, but he still felt lost in the abundance of material. When he caught sight of himself in the mirror he couldn't help but smirk. He imagined that when Eric wore this he looked somewhat distinguished, and Kyle envisioned him strutting around his bachelor pad with a pair of matching slippers, or reading the paper at breakfast, or watching SportsCentral in front of the artificial fire, or in this very bedroom. Kyle just looked like he was playing dress-up, perhaps a wizard with gaping sleeves. But the weight of the garment was just as pleasant and comfortable as Eric had felt on top of him last night. He ducked his head, bashful even when he was alone, and it was only then he noticed the gilded crest to his left, with a 'C' written in calligraphy. As if the bathrobe couldn't get any more ostentatious. Kyle chuckled to himself, wondering if Eric would mind that he was wearing something with his initial on it, or if that would only stroke his ego. Now that he was adequately clothed, he left the bedroom and peered over the banister to see if he could spot Eric downstairs. When he saw nobody he made his way down the staircase and noticed that the living room was in fact empty.

"Eric?" he called out, but heard nothing in response except faint music.

When his bare feet met the living room floor, he felt the light vibrations of the bass turned up high. He decided to follow the noise, sure that it would lead him to the grand basement Eric had bragged about last night. It took him through a narrow hallway, and a door that opened out to a cream, carpeted staircase. The once indecipherable song had erupted into spiky glam metal guitars and Poison lyrics.

_"And I know you cannot wait, a'wait to see me too. I gotta touch you!"_

As Kyle padded down the hallway, he noticed that all the other doors were closed except one. When he neared it he could hear Eric's laboured panting beneath the chorus.

_"Down the basement, lock the cellar door, and baby ~ talk dirty to me!"_

He curled his fingers around the doorway and peered inside, to find Eric on his back lifting weights, panting and grunting as the music blared. Kyle just stared for a while, Eric's noises of exertion reminiscent of those he had made last night... albeit less desperate and passionate, and free of obscenities. His mouth was growing heavier as he watched, as was the thick bathrobe wrapped around him, suddenly stuffy. He cleared his throat and wrapped the robe more tightly around himself, entering the impressive gym and padding over to Eric. He certainly didn't want to startle him with those weights in his hands.

"Good morning!" he called over the music.

Eric remained oblivious, but as he brought the weights closer to his chest, he lifted his head. Kyle smiled, humming with laughter at those curious eyes peering over the weights. He placed them behind him and sat up, his face glistening with sweat and brow creased with effort but he still managed a smile that relieved Kyle of at least some of his nerves. Shifting closer and straddling the bench, he reached for his phone and the music stopped.

"Hey," he said, breathless and still grinning.

"Hey..." Kyle replied, willing for words to come so he would stop staring. He shook his head and squeezed his eyes shut, as if that would help. "Sorry to, uh, interrupt."

"What?" Eric asked, brow furrowed, before waving the apology off. "Oh no, it's fine. I was almost done anyway. Wanna sit?"

Now it was Kyle's turn to furrow his eyebrows, before he realised that Eric meant joining him on the bench.

"Oh, yeah, sure..." he mumbled, taking a seat and his breath caught in his throat when he realised how close he and Eric were.

He was straddling it like Eric, though the position wasn't the most graceful for him, as the bathrobe left little to the imagination. Eric's ragged breath was catching in every sense of the word, and Kyle's attempt to steer his mind to a place where he could begin a more serious conversation was thwarted when his eyes had other ideas. They travelled over Eric's soaked hair skimming his brows, past his gleaming, parted lips, thick arms straining a damp t-shirt, and an even thicker pair of thighs so close to him it wasn't fair. Kyle would've tried harder to rein in his wandering gaze were it not for Eric being just as preoccupied with admiring him. It really should've alerted Kyle that this could soon get out of hand, out of control, except it felt so nice, so comfortable, so quietly exhilarating even, that it was impossible to let go. He now knew that Eric liked him back, and he wanted to revel in that for as long as he could.

"You've worked up-"

"You look cute in-"

They ducked their head when their words collided, giggling to themselves like teenagers.

"You go," Eric offered.

"I was just gonna say that... you've worked up a sweat," Kyle said, shaking his head and trying to dismiss it immediately. "But, uh, what did you want to-"

"Oh, uh, I was just gonna say that my robe suits you," Eric replied. He leaned in closer, his voice humid between them. "You look fucking adorable."

Kyle blinked, lowering his chin and pursing his lips to hide the flush rising on his already hot skin. He fiddled with the cord.

"I just wanted to cover myself up when I got out of bed, and it caught my eye... as did the fucking crest." Kyle met Eric's eyes, chuckling. "Who do you think you are? Lord of the manor?"

"A guy can dream, right?"

Kyle rolled his eyes, still laughing softly. Eric's grin had mellowed into a gentle smile, leaning closer with lidded eyes and Kyle had no complaints about pressing his lips to that gorgeous smile... until he remembered something. He turned his head and covered his mouth.

"Wait, no, I haven't brushed my teeth..."

"So?"

"So I don't want you kissing me when I have morning breath, it's gross!"

"And I've been working out for an hour and fucking reek," Eric replied with a shrug. "So what? Has every guy you fucked been denied a kiss from you the next day just because you had morning breath? Jesus, Kyle, live a little."

Kyle shoved Eric's shoulder with a scowl he wished was sincere.

"Hey, come on, I was living last night, wasn't I?" he pointed out, surprised himself that he could acknowledge their tryst out loud in a way that didn't feel stifling or sombre.

Eric rewarded him with his trademark wicked grin.

"Definitely," he replied, placing his hands on Kyle's bare thighs and moving up. "You were living  _hard_."

Kyle gasped when Eric pressed his palms into his skin and squeezed. Eric was so close now that their noses were an inch away from touching. What was the point of holding his inhibitions to his chest?

"We can be gross together," Eric added.

Kyle smiled, lazy and content, with no need for further convincing. He closed the tiny gap between them, and his tensed shoulders finally relaxed when his lips met Eric's. He deepened the kiss, previous insecurities forgotten, and was only emboldened when Eric readily returned it. His thumbs pressed into Kyle's thighs as though he were kneading the supple flesh. They soon shifted closer, Kyle's hands running up Eric's arms and his right weaved into Eric's hair, clutching a sweat-soaked handful. Eric may have thought he 'reeked' but Kyle loved the way he smelled, warm, and musky, and just reminiscent enough of last night to pique his arousal.

Eric's hands roamed from his thighs to his hips, and then to his waist. Too impatient to untie the cord, he simply pulled open the bathrobe to reveal Kyle's chest. Kyle let Eric slip the robe from his shoulders and the material pooled at his waist, now revealing his burgeoning erection too. Their lips separated with a quiet, wet smack, Eric's forehead still pressed to Kyle's as he raked his dark, smouldering gaze over him. Kyle shivered, tilting his head and capturing Eric's lips again. Eric groaned into the kiss, nipping Kyle's flushed lower lip before relinquishing his mouth and lowering his head to plant kisses on Kyle's neck instead. Kyle moaned in surrender to the velvet kisses, Eric's hot breath on his skin, and his nose nuzzling his neck. Eric's hands soon wandered from Kyle's hips to his lower back until he found Kyle's ass. Kyle gasped and whimpered when Eric's finger slipped into the cleft and began to stroke. He was rock hard now, unravelling under the press of Eric's mouth and his persuasive touch.

"You know, I could use some company in the shower..." Eric said, ragged and sultry into his neck.

Kyle gulped, almost choking on the lump of excitement in his throat. He so desperately wanted to nod, wanted to let Eric take his hand and lead him to the shower for round two. How often did dreams literally come true, after all? But even though he knew everything in his body would cry out in frustration, he needed to pull himself together and put a stop to this while he still had a scrap of coherent thought. Before anything more could happen between them, they needed to seriously acknowledge what had taken place the night before. He shook his head and pulled Eric away from him.

"No..." he murmured, before clearing his throat and raising his voice. "No, we uh, should talk about what happened last night before we do anything else." He fixed the bathrobe and looked deep into Eric's unsure eyes. "I think now is the right time."

Eric sighed, eyes wandering the room before he returned them to Kyle and nodded. He placed his hands on his own lap.

"Tell you what," he said. "I'll hop in the shower, you make yourself comfortable upstairs, and then we'll have breakfast and talk."

Kyle nodded, suddenly nervous all over again.

* * *

Whilst Eric showered, Kyle rid himself of the cosy and comforting robe and changed into the outfit he had worn last night. Kyle had stiffened immediately when he slipped the creased shirt and trousers on, uncomfortable where they once hadn't been. At least he had looked somewhat endearing in Eric's bathrobe, the only way to describe how he looked now was a mess. But Eric didn't seem to think so, as he only offered him a wide, bright smile when he emerged from the basement, hair still wet from his shower. As Eric busied himself making breakfast Kyle sipped at his coffee and tried to catch wafts of that minty shower gel whenever Eric passed him.

"Aren't you gonna have something too?" Kyle asked, watching Eric plate up his breakfast of yoghurt, fresh fruit and a croissant.

"Nah, I already ate. Although..." Eric let the sentence linger, stealing a quick, cautious glance at Kyle before stealing a couple blueberries from his plate.

"Hey!"

Eric chuckled around the fruit in his mouth, swallowing it before sliding Kyle's breakfast across the small kitchen bar to him.

"Are you sure that's enough?"

Kyle was already smiling down at his plate, considerately made and knowing it would taste as delicious as it looked. He directed the smile at Eric.

"Yeah, this is great, thanks," he replied.

Eric hid his own appreciative smile behind his coffee mug. Kyle dug into his breakfast without another word, trying to organise his thoughts as he ate while Eric sat and waited.

"So... last night..."

Kyle looked up from his plate, unprepared and totally surprised that Eric was taking it upon himself to be the first to mention it.

"What?" Eric asked, a crease in his brow. Kyle blushed and gulped down the food in his mouth. He must have looked so obvious. "You wanted to talk about it, didn't you?"

Kyle rolled his eyes. Even if the burden of responsibility had been lifted from his shoulders that still didn't mean he couldn't be bristled by it.

" _Yeah_ , I just never thought that you would be the one to bring it up. "

Eric snickered and placed his mug down, raising his hands in defence.

"Well, I was perfectly happy just going with the flow down there and seeing where it would take us..."

Kyle rolled his eyes again, exasperated still, but softer and glimmering with a wickedness that he was reflecting from Eric.

"You knew where it would take us," he replied. "To your shower, where you would have pinned me against the wall and fucked me."

Eric's eyes brightened, his smile quirking into an intrigued smirk, and he folded his arms on the bar and leaned in a little closer.

"Is that you wanted to happen, Kyle?" he asked, so husky and goading that Kyle could only smirk too. It was his way of admitting defeat without actually having to admit it, which was always the preferable option.

Eric sighed sweetly.

"God, we're so compatible..."

Kyle shrugged, eyes roaming the duck-egg blue of the bar.

"In some ways, yeah..."

"Physically, for one. You can't deny that last night was fucking incredible."

"I wasn't going to," Kyle replied, returning his gaze to Eric and shaking his head. Last night was so many things, and Kyle had come to realise humbling was one of them. He lowered his voice to a softer, earnest tone. "You were so much better than I ever imagined you would be..."

Eric extinguished any small flash of humility by puffing out his chest and adopting a smug grin.

"You've been imagining it, huh?"

Kyle scoffed and laughed incredulously.

"Oh, come on! It's no secret that I like you! I would never have fucked you otherwise."

Eric again raised his hands like it would absolve him of anything.

"I'm just curious, is all! A hot guy tells you he's been fantasising about you and-"

"I haven't been fantasising about you,  _exactly_ , it's just..." Kyle shrugged, suddenly sheepish as his eyes wandered the bar again. Some dreams are never meant to be uttered aloud, and he thought this dream was one of them. "I don't know, I had this dream that, like, we were making out in the locker room... in the shower, actually, and-"

"Oh, Kyle, you dirty girl!" Eric cut in, practically giddy.

"Don't get any wild ideas though, okay?" Kyle added, trying to fix him as stern a look as he could muster. "Because there is no way that's happening."

Eric rolled his eyes but his smile didn't waver.

"So, come on, seriously, what is gonna happen?" he asked, softer and serious. "What do you  _want_ to happen?"

Kyle brought his hands to his face, sighing into his palms before he dragged his fingers through his hair. He hated that he still didn't have an answer, too distracted and afraid to search deeper for what he really wanted. He was tired with grappling with what was tempting and what was right, although either realities were ill-advised and unappealing in their own unique ways. He just had to take a chance, and right now that meant venting to Eric so they could untangle this together. He couldn't be brazen or flirtatious, nor diplomatic and pious. He just had to be honest, like he vowed from the start he would be.

"I don't know, except... these last, what, twelve hours? Have been the most exciting, and fun I've had in a really long time. I've been under so much stress lately, and trying to be the best version of myself I possibly can be for the sake of team, that it just felt nice to not think about any of that for a while. It was just great to finally spend some alone time with you, and... I don't regret what we did for one minute because you brought out this side of me that I didn't know existed. Last night, right now, I feel like a different person. A happier, more carefree, and adventurous person, and I don't wanna stop being that person. I sure as hell don't wanna stop whatever this is."

"Me neither," Eric replied immediately. "I mean, fuck that."

"But if we dated, it could be..."

Eric huffed and shook his head.

"Oh yeah, the press would have a fucking field day."

He once again hid his displeasure behind his mug. Kyle only nodded solemnly.

"So..." Eric said, once he finished his sip. "Let's not date?"

Kyle blinked, jarred by the sudden change in trajectory. Had he totally misread the situation? What Eric wanted? He thought he would have put up more of a fight. Despite the risk, Kyle wanted to figure out a compromise. He winced at the feeling of that notion being crushed, more tender than Kyle had realised. Embarrassed and disappointed all at once. But maybe it was for the best, not everything as precarious as this was worth fighting for. Sometimes you have to know when to walk away, and maybe Eric had clearer foresight than he did.

"Um..." Kyle coughed, his voice was threadbare and defeated. He needed to clear his throat. "Okay... I just thought that-"

"No, I mean, why don't we do our own thing?" Eric cut in, bright and promising enough to soothe the ache in Kyle's chest. A shining signal of that compromise Kyle had been hoping for. "Why do we have to be like everybody else? This  _is_  unconventional, so let's just embrace it and make it work for us."

"And what would that involve?"

"I guess it would be a 'friends with benefits' kinda deal? So, you know, we hang out, and hook up, and nobody has to know except us. When we're around other people, the team, and the media we just act like colleagues... which we  _can do_ ," Eric pointed out.

"Right!" Kyle replied, sitting up and beaming now. "We're adults! We can control ourselves, and remain professional."

"Exactly!"

"And it only gets complicated if we make it complicated," Kyle reasoned. It didn't feel like bargaining when he could see no reason why this shouldn't work. In fact, it seemed perfect, the best of both worlds.

"Well, I have no problem with keeping it simple," Eric replied, with an inviting smile Kyle couldn't refuse.

A grin spread across his face.

"Neither do I."

"And hey, look, it's awesome stress relief too," Eric pointed out. "God knows we both need that."

"Especially since we have our big game against the Pumas tomorrow. You better not let me down," Kyle replied with a playful scowl, pointing a warning finger at Eric.

"You kidding me?" he grinned, batting Kyle's finger out of the way and leaning in close enough to kiss. "I wouldn't dream of it, chief."

They held their lidded, satisfied gazes in silence. But soon Kyle realised that if Eric wasn't going to seal the deal with a kiss, then he would. For once in his life, he felt brave enough to have it all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter has three of my favourite things. Eric's fancy robe from 'Le Petit Tourette,' Kyle wearing Eric's robe, and Eric working out to glam metal. The last one is oddly specific, but something I've wanted to include in a fic for literally years.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First off, apologies for how late this is. I really wanted to post this sooner, and I hate leaving updates for so long, but I've been pretty busy lately/distracted by a oneshot I'm also working on/did have a little bit of writer's block when writing this chapter. But I made it! It's posted! Yay! Thank you for being patient (I hope this chapter makes up for the wait), and I hope you enjoy!

_"Good evening, folks! Mike Turnbull and Bob Ridgers here, and we are honoured to bring you tonight's match-up that is set to be the most exciting game of the season so far. The Denver Mustangs versus last year's Olympus Cup champions, the Philadelphia Pumas."_

_"Taking on any team fresh from Olympus Cup victory is always going to be a formidable challenge, but even more so when you've just acquired their fullback! Mike, do you think the Mustangs can work this to their advantage?"_

_"I do, Bob. I mean, Eric Cartman was an instrumental component to the Pumas victory last year, and if you put aside the fumble he had during his first game against the Tigers, he's really shone at the Mustangs. I think he's invigorated them, and they've been on an astounding winning streak lately. It's phenomenal!"_

_"It truly is, but let's not forget that the Pumas have been incredibly impressive too in this still very young season. I just wonder if this unique position Eric Cartman finds himself in will get to his head? Will the Pumas rumble him more than any other Mustang player out on the field?"_

_"Well, we've all seen how single-minded Eric Cartman is when it comes to football. You know, he gets out there with one thing on his mind and that is to win, even if he has to disrupt the status quo, play dirty, and make the crowd and all you folks watching at home, wince a little at how far he will go. I mean, he is ruthless! And whether or not you agree that's the right way to play football is irrelevant to Eric Cartman, because the stats speak for themselves. The Pumas are old news to him now, because when he triumphs tonight he's gonna be wearing a Mustangs shirt."_

Kyle was taking a break from networking so he could listen to the TV commentary. He wished he could be as excited and giddy with anticipation as the other chattering attendees in the executive lounge, for what was indeed a crucial game. Kyle hadn't felt this nervous since their very first game of the season, when everything felt so unpredictable and Eric was the undeniable mascot for that. Eric didn't seem to be done surprising him though. Kyle never could have predicted that he would nestle into his charms, or wind up in his bed. He bit the inside of his cheek to stop a shy smile spreading across his face. It was only yesterday they had established the terms of what this clandestine development in their relationship entailed, an entirely new deal sealed with kisses rather than signatures. They both assumed their trysts would be stress-relieving, and Kyle wanted to laugh at that notion now, stomach knotted with anxiety and he felt as though his whole body was thrumming with impatience. Or maybe it was withdrawal? Maybe just one hit of Eric's kiss, his hands on him, his ragged, earnest words murmured in his ear would placate him? But that was ridiculous, Kyle knew, and beyond inconvenient. He couldn't just march down to the locker room, drag Eric to a private place, and work each other up just to unwind spectacularly. Kyle's mouth grew heavy, and his underwear tight. Blinking, he snapped himself out of it and scanned the room to make sure nobody had noticed him wander off into a sultry trance.

He vowed to himself he would try to watch that, and he had tried hard to banish all thoughts of Eric when he stepped into the executive lounge. All he needed was reassurance, hence he was paying so much attention to the veteran commentators, trying to find comfort in their words, to inspire hope that Eric would play another great game. But it was no use. He hated how the only person he would believe right now was Eric himself. Sighing, he reached for his phone in his pocket, and scanning the room one last time, made his way to a quiet corner.

" _Hey."_

He stared at the text for a few seconds, then pressed send before he could start to doubt himself. But he knew that one greeting wouldn't be enough to quell his nerves. Taking a bracing breath like he was relinquishing his pride, he typed:

" _Feeling ok?"_

He didn't hesitate sending it this time. He watched the still screen, finding it in himself to wait patiently for an answer. Although he knew it was highly unlikely Eric would even have his phone on him now, let alone find the time to reply when he was probably too busy psyching himself up for the game, joining the guys in pre-match rituals to ready themselves. Kyle almost smiled at the image, but instead shook his head at how silly he was being...  _needy,_  even. His heart leapt and took up temporary residence in his throat when he saw that Eric was typing.

" _I feel great. Gonna destroy those motherfuckers_ ," he replied. The text was accompanied by an emoji with dead, crossed out eyes and a muscular arm flexing.

Kyle chuckled, not knowing what he expected but delighted with what he received.

* * *

Half time, and the Mustangs were losing by a considerable margin. A concerning margin too, when the whole stadium - even the suits that surrounded Kyle - seemed to seethe and slump as the depleted clock granted them some reprieve from their asses getting kicked. Kyle could hear the solemn commentators decide that maybe they had spoken too soon about Eric's unflappable confidence. It merely echoed the sight of Eric throwing his helmet down on the field, and dragging his hands through his hair. He watched Butters jog over to him, clapping him on the back as they trudged to the locker room together.

Kyle frowned when he thought of the unenviable task Coach Kern had to rally his players. It was a tempting thought, to head down to the locker room with a rousing speech of his own but Kyle couldn't find any words that weren't flimsy, half-hearted, or desperately hopeful. It was certainly not the first defeat he would experience, or had experienced as owner. But this match-up had been contentious and tender before the Pumas had set foot in the stadium. Now they were poised to trample the Mustangs. Kyle winced, but soon felt a familiar, comforting hand on his shoulder.

"It'll be okay, bubbe," his mom said with an imploring smile, giving his shoulder a squeeze. "We can still turn it around in the third and fourth quarters, you'll see..."

Kyle sighed, his shoulder falling beneath his mom's palm, and nodded. Of course she was right, halfway down the road there was always opportunity for a detour. Momentous, pivotal decisions could be made in a split-second. It was so easily forgotten, when everything you had was poured into a game... including your common sense. And if Eric, volatile and impassioned, had lost sight of that too then Kyle could remind him. He offered his mom a tight smile.

"Excuse me..." he muttered, before heading to the bathroom.

Once there, he pulled out his phone and began to type.

" _Relax. You can do this. There's still time."_

Kyle stuck around while he waited for a reply. But after a couple of minutes he still received nothing. It was unsettling, frustrating, to be unable to get through to Eric, to not know what he was thinking, even though they were not so far away from each other. But being professional meant keeping their distance. and being casual meant not getting hung up when a text went unanswered.

With that in mind, Kyle headed back to the lounge and returned to his comfortable seat. His phone stayed silent for the remainder of halftime.

* * *

Five minutes remained on the clock. Three hundred seconds for the Mustangs to edge out the Pumas and snag an impossible victory. An incredible feat in every sense of the word. Eric seemed to have seized every possible opportunity, every possible second, and was hurtling down the field with it, hoarding them as closely to his chest as the ball. Kyle had never seen him sprint like that; energised, and grateful, and - Kyle liked to hope at least - invigorated by his words.

Eric narrowly dodged the tackles of his former teammates, shrugging them off, elbowing their outstretched, greedy hands, and even  _wrestling_  them when the end zone was in reach. Kyle was sure he'd have leather buried beneath his fingernails after the clock ran out. His knuckles were strained white as he gripped the armrests of his chair, his shoulders pulled taut and his spine seemed to strain with the pressure of the dwindling minutes. Even his mom, so shrewd and optimistic at halftime, was hunched forward as though contemplating whether the team had enough energy, enough time. She ruined her expensive manicure between her teeth.

Eric reached the end zone, and the whole stadium seemed to hold in a breath. Kyle wouldn't dare breathe until it was official. He threw the ball down, and the collected, bated breath of the fans erupted into an ecstatic, deafening cheer. Kyle jumped up and yelled, feeling the floor beneath him quake as the other guests jumped from their barstools, or their leather chairs, cheering, and embracing each other. Kyle laughed helplessly at the sight of his mom jumping up and down, beehive hairdo bobbing as she clapped. She grinned, and pulled him into her arms.

"Oh my God, I can't believe we did that!" Kyle exclaimed.

"Oh, I'm so happy for you, bubbe!" she replied, giving him a squeeze.

Kyle felt his phone buzz against his leg, and slipped out of his mom's embrace. He glanced at the field below and saw that it was now empty. Returning to his phone, an uncontrollable smile spread across his face when he saw that Eric had texted him.

" _Told you I'd crush them_."

Kyle pursed his lips, giddy.

" _It took you long enough."_

" _Aren't you going to congratulate me?_ " Eric soon replied, punctuated with a couple of winking emojis.

Kyle rolled his eyes.

" _Congratulations. How do you feel?"_

" _Fucking incredible_."

The corners of Kyle's mouth piqued upwards. Before he could reply, another text came through.

" _I want to see you."_

Kyle's mouth dropped, heavy now. His breath snagged on the plea disguised as a demand. He knew better than to heed to it.

" _Meet me in the tunnel in 5 minutes,"_ Eric added, before Kyle could dissuade him.

Kyle didn't reply, because even despite his better judgement, the promises he had made to himself, he knew he was going to be in that tunnel in five minutes. He knew that he wanted to see Eric too. He tucked his phone inside his pocket, jittery with impatience to get out of the room as quickly as possible.

"Ma, I'm just gonna head down to the locker room real quick, okay?"

"Sure, go ahead, sweetie!" his mom replied, waving him off. She was already in conversation with an old friend of the team.

Kyle smiled to himself, weaving through the crowd of tipsy, congratulatory guests, nodding, and shaking their hands all the while. He was almost at the door when an AFA director blocked his path. One of the old-school guys, the type who had defended his dad in the privacy of a post-meeting boardroom.

"Mr Broflovski!" he grinned, extending his hand for Kyle to shake. "Congratulations on the game, son... I mean, sir!" he laughed, and shook his head. "Sorry, it's just that we don't have a lot of young bucks at this level!"

"No problem, sir," Kyle replied. He was soaring too high right now to be bristled by his condescension. Though he did squeeze his ancient hand a little harder. "And thank you."

"Tell me, is your father going to make an appearance up here sometime soon?" he enquired. "How's he doing?"

"He's doing well, sir," Kyle replied, though any news he received about his dad lately came second-hand from his mom. "I'm sure he'll attend a game when he finds the time."

_Or the balls._

"Fantastic. It's a shame he can't be here to see what a tremendous job you're doing with the team." He leaned in closer with a glint in his eye. "I can see an Olympus Cup in the near future!"

"Well, thank you, sir," Kyle replied, trying his best to be humble. But he was feeling pretty confident about the Mustangs' chances too lately. "That's what we're aiming for."

"I'm sure it is." The AFA director smiled warmly, before clapping Kyle's shoulder and spotting somebody else in the room he wanted to converse with.

Once his attention was elsewhere, Kyle took the opportunity to slip out of the lounge.

* * *

Stood in the tunnel alone, Kyle could hear the footsteps and murmurings of fans departing the stadium above his head, could see the empty field in the distance... but still no sign of Eric. Of course it was typical of him to make Kyle wait, to make a grand entrance, to leave him fidgety with anticipation, to irritate him with his tardiness only to placate him with a soothing smile, and a sincerely apologetic kiss. But Kyle couldn't fantasise about such things when his very presence was unwarranted, sure to draw suspicion if anybody saw him. He chose to wait in the deep, concealing shadows, hoping they would protect him.

He froze when he heard the echoing sound of footsteps approaching him, but had no time to sigh and smile in relief when he saw Eric's purposeful grin cut through the dark. Without a greeting, Eric cupped Kyle's face as swiftly as he caught that precious, game-winning ball and brought their lips together, smothering the tiny, surprised noise that escaped Kyle's mouth. He drank Kyle in as gladly as the celebratory champagne that was no doubt flowing in the locker room, and Kyle tilted his head and reached up to catch a luxuriant drop of Eric. Hot, plush, and heady, Kyle had to grip Eric's sides to ground himself into the kiss he didn't know he'd been missing all day. But Eric was just as weightless, when Kyle gave his shirt a tug and they both stumbled. Kyle found himself pressed up against the wall, but the feeling of the cold stone against his back melted away when Eric's warm mouth and hands were still on him.

They were panting when they finally relinquished each other. Kyle's skin burned against his clothes, and the space felt humid and smouldering between them. A giddy smile thawed out the numbness in his lips.

"Hmm, that was just what I needed..." Eric murmured, pinked, and transfixed on Kyle's mouth.

Kyle chuckled, flustered and flattered.

"What you  _need_  is a shower," he joked, though he had gladly inhaled Eric's scent when their lips were locked. He smelt of a victory Kyle wanted to revel in for as long as he could.

"I didn't hear you complaining yesterday..."

Kyle rolled his eyes and pulled Eric to his lips again. There was no use resisting them when they were so close, and Kyle would've stayed tucked away with Eric in the tunnel all night if he could... if they didn't have so many responsibilities, people sure to come looking for them.

"Seriously though, you better go shower," Kyle said, still a little breathless. He placed his hands on Eric's chest to dissuade him from kissing him again. He smiled. "I'm sure the press is clamouring for an interview with you, MVP."

The disappointment faded from Eric's smile, instead replaced with an arrogant sparkle that lit up his grin. He sighed dramatically, and placed his hand on the wall, just above Kyle's head.

"I suppose you're right, chief," he replied. He raked his gaze over Kyle. "God, they just can't get enough of me..."

Kyle chuckled, though knew the feeling. Eric's content, lazy smile soon shrank into one of contemplation. His hand slid from the wall.

"So do you wanna do something later?" he asked.

The tantalising invitation raced up Kyle's spine like a bolt of lightning, making him stand to attention.

"Yeah, sure." He nodded, hoping he didn't sound as eager as he felt. "I'll call you."

"Great." Eric grinned.

* * *

Since Kyle's apartment was the nearest safe place for them to be together without fear of attracting prying eyes, they decided to meet there after Kyle was finished with post-game drinks in the executive lounge, and as soon as Eric could slip away from the bar. He had sent Eric his address on his way home, and was now rushing around his apartment in an attempt to freshen up the place until Eric arrived... or to occupy his thoughts from drifting into feverish fantasies of him. Their secret kisses in the tunnel earlier had enlivened him, ignited a craving within him that he had been trying to suppress all day. Now that he had caved, now that he was reminded of what he had been missing, no amount of praise, promising conversation, or expensive champagne could distract him from daydreams of Eric, or replicate the same thrill he offered Kyle.

He had smoothed down the sheets, and plumped the pillows, though Kyle knew Eric wouldn't notice any of those things when he had rid him of his clothes and pinned him to the bed. He was now stood in front of his bedroom mirror, fussing with his curls and tugging at his clothes despite the fact that Eric would ruin his hair with his eager fingers, that his clothes would soon be in a heap only a few inches away from his feet very soon. Kyle swallowed a whimper, and with quivering fingers reached for a bottle of cologne. It glistened on his skin, sharp and warm, and Kyle knew Eric would appreciate burying his nose in the scent when his lips wandered. Kyle almost dropped the bottle when he heard a loud knock at the door. Demanding and covert, it could only be one person. He grinned at his reflection, before setting down the bottle and rushing to answer the door.

Hands tucked into the pockets of his jacket, Eric actually appeared shy when Kyle opened the door.

"Hi..." he smiled.

"Hey..." Kyle replied, Eric's shyness was contagious along with his smile. Perhaps it was because they were standing on the threshold of a boundary? On one side a place where they had to be careful, on the other a place where the world could easily be shut out and they made the rules. Kyle wanted Eric to join him on his side of the door. "Come in."

He stepped aside to let Eric in, and when he shut the door behind him he seemed to be locking out any apprehension with it. Eric had been the brave one during their rendezvous in the tunnel, bringing Kyle to his lips before he could express any doubt. Rejecting caution and wholeheartedly embracing desire. It was Kyle's turn now. Before Eric could say another word, Kyle cupped his face and pulled him to his lips. Soon, Eric's hands found Kyle's waist and brought him flush, readily deepening the kiss.

"I've been waiting for this all night..." Eric murmured, hot breath ghosting Kyle's mouth when their kisses relented.

Kyle nodded. Eric's flushed, gleaming lips and dark, golden eyes were hazy in his vision.

"Me too," he replied, ragged, before capturing Eric's mouth again.

His hands slid from Eric's searing cheeks into his hair, clutching a chestnut handful before one shaking hand grasped the nape of his neck. Kyle soon found himself buckling under Eric's hot, talented tongue and ever deepening kiss. His hands found Kyle's ass and squeezed, ensnaring him in his arms and holding him tight when Kyle started to swoon and grow limp. Kyle tugged at Eric's hair even harder, and the hand on his neck soon wandered to his shoulder.

He blindly began to lead Eric to his bedroom, and his melting mind started to wonder if Eric was just as caught in his thrall, hypnotically following Kyle's lead. Kyle's heel, however, soon met his couch. But he didn't care when he lost his footing, stumbling onto the couch and taking Eric with him. They huffed and smiled, lips ghosting each other before gravity reunited them. The leather squished and stuck to Kyle's clothes growing damper by the minute as they writhed and kissed. With a faint huff, he propped himself up to find the zip of Eric's jacket. The delight of hearing the zip come undone clutched Kyle's heart the way tearing into a birthday present did. He pulled it from Eric's shoulders and threw it to the carpet, hands impatient to return to his wide, heaving chest. His fingers raked over the soft cotton of his shirt, longing to feel the hot skin beneath.

"The AFA directors I spoke to tonight..." Kyle managed to breathe out between kisses. "They couldn't shut up about you... that touchdown..." Kyle squeezed Eric a little tighter. "You were fucking incredible today..."

"Yeah?" Eric murmured.

Kyle swallowed the word like a pill when Eric claimed his lips again. He nodded, tongues brushing together, and he pulled back ever so slightly so he could look into Eric's eyes. Goosebumps prickled his skin when he swore through his haze he saw Eric's lips parted with flattery and surprise rather than pulled into an arrogant smile. Kyle couldn't revel in his discovery for too long though, for Eric's lips soon spread into a grin, lighting up his eyes and drawing attention to his wide, galvanised pupils.

"Did it turn you on?" he teased.

"What?"

"My touchdown," Eric replied, pressing his forehead to Kyle's and grinning encouragingly.

Kyle rolled his eyes, his already flushed face growing warmer. It was an exhilarating moment, and the relief he felt watching Eric score that touchdown and tip the game into victory was glorious and visceral, but he wasn't turned on. His mom was sat next to him, for God's sake! He noticed Eric was stroking his thigh, and smirked.

"Okay, I got a little excited," he admitted. "But I wasn't turned on." He gave Eric's shoulder a pinch and lowered his gaze to his lips. "Don't flatter yourself."

Eric chuckled, seemingly pleased with his answer nonetheless, and closed the gap between their lips.

"Although..." Kyle murmured when their lips separated. "It was very impressive. You said you wouldn't let me down, and you kept to your word."

Eric grinned, eyes fond and lidded.

"Well, you're the boss..."

"Right," Kyle replied, before his hands wandered to Eric's chest. He stroked him as he contemplated what he was about to offer. A little reward for playing so well today, for not letting him down. "But what if I wasn't? Just for tonight?"

Eric pulled back, and Kyle noticed his eyes searching him with a furrowed brow.

"What do you mean?"

Kyle sighed.

"I mean..." He looked into Eric's eyes with his most confident grin. "Since you did so great today, how about you be the boss? I think you deserve it. So tonight, we'll do whatever you want to do. You can be the boss of me, for a change..."

Despite the nerves he felt with his proposal, Eric's breath catching on intrigue made it all worth it. Told him he was onto something. Kyle had to bite his lip before he lost the cool control he had on his grin.

"So..." Eric paused to submit to his own grin. "You'll do whatever I tell you to do?"

"Sure..." Kyle shrugged, before he realised he had no idea exactly what he was agreeing to, or what Eric had in mind. He gulped, and his eyes widened. "As long as it's not too weird, or, like, kinky. Not that I think you would be into anything weird... and it wouldn't be a bad thing if you were! As long as it's legal. God, I'm not a prude! I'm not! That stuff just isn't my thing, and I..." he sighed, wincing with embarrassment. "Fuck."

Kyle buried his head in his hands, though Eric's warm laughter soon thawed him out.

"Sorry," he said, lowering his hands and frowning. "I'm terrible at this. I was just trying to be sexy and-"

"Woah, wait a minute,  _trying_  to be sexy? Kyle, you don't need to try. You're sexy all the time!"

Kyle rolled his eyes, face simmering. Of course Eric would say that when it was guaranteed he was getting into his pants.

"Right..."

"I'm serious!" Eric argued. He sighed, eyes roaming Kyle's body before they returned to his own with a smile. "You're sexy when you laugh, when you yell at me-"

Kyle couldn't help but laugh at that one. It faded however, when Eric held his chin between his thumb and index finger. His thumb was resting on Kyle's bottom lip. Eric's smile had vanished, and Kyle could only see his surprised reflection in his eyes. It were if as though he had completely taken over, and was all Eric could see in the world. His voice was gentle and earnest when he spoke.

"And Friday night, when you were lying next to me, all..." A fond smile wavered on his lips. "Spent, and happy, smiling like you didn't want to be anywhere else, I swear, I've never wanted you more. You were perfect."

Before Kyle could melt into a swooning puddle at Eric's lap, he tugged at his shirt and smashed their lips together, emboldened by his words. He wanted to be the person Eric remembered standing up to him in the locker room, undressing by his pool, and who stayed the night at his place. Fearless and passionate.

"So what do you wanna do now?" Kyle asked, mouth flushed and tingling from the hard kiss, still holding fistfuls of Eric's shirt.

Eric was grinning and biting his lip.

"First off..." he said, standing up. "Where's your bedroom?"

"Um, just through there..." Kyle replied, pointing in the direction of his room.

Eric's eyes followed, and he nodded.

"Right" he said, before grabbing Kyle's sides.

"What-"

Kyle interrupted himself with a yelp as Eric threw him over his shoulder. His stomach heaved at the speed of which is feet left the floor, the room tumbling in his vision. But Eric's arm soon secured him, wrapped around his thighs, and he gave him a reassuring hitch before he was carried to his bedroom. His arms dangled at Eric's back as he watched the living room disappear from his view, and soon Eric was dropping him onto the mattress. The springs bounced beneath him and Eric climbed on the bed with a self-satisfied smirk.

"Are you always going to carry me everywhere?" Kyle asked, still a little breathless even though Eric had literally done all the heavy lifting.

Eric shrugged, on his knees and already throwing his shirt on the floor.

"Probably," he replied. He gave Kyle a short nod. "Clothes off."

Kyle's fingers flew to his belt, unbuckling it with shaky hands. He raised his hips as he tugged his pants down his legs, kicking them off his ankles. He felt the weight of Eric's body being lifted off the mattress as he removed his own pants, but didn't look up to watch Eric's disrobing. He knew it would only distract him. Eric's wide, pleased grin, and his darkened eyes still glimmering with wickedness when he saw Kyle had obeyed him, had given him exactly what he wanted, was just as tantalising a sight as Eric bare in front of him. He peeled his socks off his feet, and then worked on unbuttoning his shirt. When every button was swiftly opened he shrugged his shirt off as though it were on fire, abandoning it on the carpet with his other clothes. He lifted his hips again to remove his underwear, cock straining the material already. The mattress dipped under the weight of two large, bare knees as Kyle's underwear slid down his calves, and Eric tugged the pesky boxers from his ankles and threw them off the bed. Impatient as he had been during their first time together.

Kyle bit his lip before a pleased smile could spread uncontrollably across his face. Delighted that his daydreams had finally come to fruition, that after two long days of waiting, and fantasising, Eric was naked in front of him again. It was only now, lying at Eric's knees did he marvel at how he had resisted calling Eric up earlier and asking him to come over. Maybe he had underestimated his own willpower? His eyes wandered up Eric's thighs, drinking him in and determined to savour every last drop but he stalled when he reached Eric's cock. He remembered the dizzying desire it had stoked in him the very first time he had seen it as hard and pinked as it was right now. He remembered how it had stretched him, how Eric fucking him into the mattress ignited a feeling of ecstasy so deafening it had drowned out all his worries. It was just what he had needed, and now he wanted it more than ever. His mouth was so heavy that his jaw hung limp, torrid breaths escaping his lips.

"You're staring at my cock like it's the first time you've seen it," Eric commented.

Kyle tore his gaze away to see Eric staring at him with a fond, half-smirk. A small smile quivered on his own lips.

Eric shuffled closer, and when Kyle's gaze fell to his cock once more he saw that his fingers had curled around the base.

"Put your mouth on me, Kyle..." Eric demanded, earnest and ragged enough that Kyle had to obey.

He shifted so he was down on all fours, and Eric held his cock mere centimetres away from his parted lips. Admittedly, the distance (or lack thereof) between them made Kyle wary of taking it immediately into his mouth. Especially when it had been a while since he had given anybody head... still, Eric took so much delight in their teasing and bickering in the locker room. Surely it would be no different in the bedroom either? And certainly reap far more satisfactory rewards. Kyle may have let Eric be in charge tonight, but that didn't mean he couldn't make Eric beg a little. Especially when his requests dripped with a desire Kyle couldn't refuse.

Eyes slipping coyly shut, Kyle's lips only brushed against the head of Eric's gleaming cock at first. Eric simply waited with bated breath, not even a twitch of his hips gave him away. Searching for a reaction, the tip of Kyle's tongue met the tip of Eric's cock; both flushed deep pink and wet. He slid his tongue over the head, laving at it before he took it completely into his mouth. A small, choked breath left Eric's lips then, and a sudden jerk of his hips had more of him in Kyle's mouth than he had anticipated. But he couldn't complain. In fact, Eric's surprise was so endearing that Kyle would've smiled if he could.

Instead, he began to suck at Eric in earnest. There wasn't already much space between his mouth and Eric's plump shaft, but he still kept his lips and tongue tight to his strained cock. He loved how Eric always seemed to just fit so perfectly. His initial nerves seemed so ridiculous now. But he couldn't dwell on them when Eric's soft, desperate groans of encouragement were filling his ears, and his gentle, tentative thrusts were filling his mouth. With a bracing breath through his nose, Kyle parted his lips even wider and took more of Eric's cock, his tongue rubbing against Eric's bulging vein. He wanted all of him, for Eric's thumb to brush against his lip when he had him in his throat.

" _Unngh_ , that's it... a little faster..."

Since Eric's cock was slickened by his mouth, and his tongue was doused in pre-cum, it was easy for Kyle to pick up his pace. His head bobbed up and down swiftly in Eric's lap, and his senses were assaulted by Eric's scent and taste; warm, rich and prickling on Kyle's taste buds, and in his nostrils. His face burned with sweat, his jaw ached and so did his cock, stiff and weighty between his legs. For Kyle, as yet untouched, wanted Eric's orgasm as much as he wanted his own. His arms trembled and he grasped the sheets as he sensed it approaching. He could hear it in the tender, relieved octave Eric gained in the moans now raining from his mouth.

" _Aaah, Aaah, wait!_ " Eric cried, panting. "Wait..."

Suddenly, thick fingers were tugging at Kyle's hair and lifting his head up. Eric pulled Kyle off his cock with a wet, gentle pop. His eyelids felt heavy when he opened them, and so did the breaths his eager lungs were taking in. His jaw was numb and slack when he lifted his gaze to Eric. His pupils had practically devoured his irises, and he was grinning at Kyle like he had similar plans for him.

"God, you look fucking gorgeous like this," he said, velvety and sumptuous to Kyle's ears. "But I think it's your turn now..."

Before Kyle could respond, he was being shoved back onto the mattress like Eric owned it. He pushed Kyle's knees further apart, spreading Kyle's legs wide to accommodate his girth and Kyle greeted that fond, familiar ache with an eager grin. Sweat-slicked skin met, and they shared hot, laboured breaths before Eric cupped Kyle's chin - his reddened cheeks smushed by firm fingers - and lifted him to his lips. Eric's tongue easily slid between Kyle's lips already wet with saliva and pre-cum, and Kyle grew limp against the sheets. His eyes drooped shut as he savoured the different, mingling tastes; all intoxicating, all delicious, all Eric. He fisted a sweat-soaked handful of Eric's hair, fingers trying to follow the movements of his writhing muscles as he raked them across his wide back. He gasped into Eric's mouth, their breaths shuddering with quick, soft moans as he rolled his hips on top of Kyle's. Their cocks slid together, aided by the pre-cum still dribbling from Eric's cock.

"Mmm..." Eric hummed, low and gravelly when he pulled away. He still held Kyle's chin, and he wiped his mouth with the other. "So that's what I taste like..."

Kyle chuckled.

"Pretty good, huh?"

Eric grinned, before tilting his head. Kyle shivered when he felt Eric's kiss-bruised lips brush against the shell of his ear. His threadbare, hungry breaths had the fine hairs on his neck standing on end.

"I bet you taste even better," he replied, before taking Kyle's earlobe between his teeth.

Kyle whimpered at the bite, back arching off the drenched sheets. Eric drew that whimper out into a long, relieved moan when he began to suck at the small pouch. The ceiling disappeared from Kyle's hazy vision when his eyes rolled back to shut completely. Soon, Eric was kissing under his ear, his lips a perfect conductor to Kyle's nerves, sending bolts of enlivening electricity down his spine with every peck and nuzzle. He relinquished Kyle's cheeks, sliding his hand down his side. His fingers splayed at his ribs, stroking the glistening skin. He buried his face in Kyle's neck as he kissed and nipped his way down his throat, and when Kyle gladly tipped his head back in surrender, Eric laved at the divot in the middle of Kyle's collarbone.

Kyle chuckled quietly, biting his lip when Eric's hair tickled his chin. His mouth was now at his chest, pressing his lips to the skin as if he wanted to leave a mark there, a path his mouth could follow for trysts to come. A choked moan escaped Kyle's throat when Eric's lips closed over a nipple. He pressed his tongue against the hard bud, sucking at it, and pinching the skin he had between his fingers approvingly when Kyle began to whimper.

Kyle's chest rose and fell beneath Eric's parted lips, and he dragged them over his stomach, placing little wet kisses under Kyle's navel. Kyle moaned, grinning, grabbing handfuls of the sheets beneath him as Eric's own hand migrated to his hip. But when Eric's lips wandered over his hip bone and onto Kyle's thigh, his hand slid to Kyle's ass. He cupped his cheek and raised him from the sheets, and Kyle had to smother a whine when he realised Eric's aloof mouth was now so close to his aching cock.

Eric's nose was pressed into his slick inner thigh, lapping at the gleaming sweat there, and in an attempt to get his lips even hovering over his cock, Kyle hooked his leg loosely around Eric's shoulder to pull him closer. Eric didn't budge, stubbornly focused on littering Kyle's thigh with kisses. Finally, his lips were at Kyle's groin. Kyle squeezed his eyes shut and choked out a grateful cry. Eric nuzzled at the area, face now buried in Kyle's crotch, nipping at the thin skin so unfairly close to his erection.

Kyle gritted his teeth and threw his head back when he felt Eric's fingers wrap around the base of his cock, desperately stiff in his palm. But his eyes flew open and a broken cry rang through the room when a hot, plush mouth closed over the head. Dizzy and panting strung-out breaths, Kyle stared at Eric with his mouth agape. The sight was just as incredible as the anticipated sensation, and his eyes began to burn, weighted by pleasure. So he let them slip shut and he fell back onto the sheets, gasping and groaning as Eric's tight mouth sucked at his cock fast and hard.

Eric took more of Kyle into his mouth without preamble, sending Kyle hurtling towards an orgasm. Kyle dug his heel into Eric's back and began to thrust into his mouth, anything for release. Forgetting the little deal they made at the beginning of the evening, Kyle even grabbed Eric's hair and pulled, pushing his head closer to his lap until Kyle could feel Eric breathing hard through his nose against his wiry curls, his cock now in Eric's throat. His brow was furrowed and his eyes were squeezed as tightly shut as his writhing, fidgety body. His lips were already parted wide in preparation for an ecstatic scream.

" _Aaah!_   _Aaah! Aaaah, Eric!"_

Instead of ecstasy, Kyle only felt his back dropping onto the sheets again. His cock was exposed to the cool air of the bedroom, rather than enveloped by Eric's hot, talented mouth. He cried through gritted teeth, opening his eyes to see Eric wiping his mouth, revealing a loathsome smirk.

"Eric!" Kyle snapped. "What the fu-"

He again interrupted himself with a huff when Eric flipped him over on all fours. His forehead was pressed into the sheets, and when he stared down at his poor, cheated cock he saw it slathered in Eric's saliva and dripping with pre-cum. Kyle frowned, growling under his breath. A strong pair of hands squeezed his hips and lifted them, before they came to rest beside Kyle's. Eric's chest stuck to Kyle's back, and his cock prodded at his ass.

"Aww, come on," Eric teased, his chin resting on Kyle's shoulder. "You're not mad at me, are you?"

"Yes!" Kyle snapped. "I was just about to..." His frustration was so unbearable he couldn't even finish. He hated how that was true in more ways than one, and both were Eric's fault. He huffed and shook his head, damp curls bristling against the cotton sheets. "Fucking tease..."

Eric snickered, before tilting his head. His lips parted at Kyle's shoulder.

"You'll be thanking me soon," he murmured, sealing the vow with a kiss.

Eric continued to peck at the area until Kyle started to giggle despite himself. It was difficult to remain mad and frosty when Eric's kisses were determined to thaw him out. His hands rested on Kyle's sides as his lips began to wander his back, fingertips running over his skin as soft as spring showers, and his kisses just as gentle. Kyle jolted a little when Eric's lips glided over his spine, almost as if he couldn't leave one nerve untouched.

"I want to taste  _every_  inch of you, Kyle..."

Kyle gulped at the conviction in Eric's voice.

Both hands were cupping his ass when Eric dragged his tongue over Kyle's lower back and tailbone, and he soon spread his cheeks. Kyle gasped when Eric pushed his tongue inside him. The sudden, sharp breath seemed to empty his lungs. He reached for the pillow above his head and clawed his fingers in as Eric started to tongue-fuck him, shallow and slow. His thighs were trembling, he needed something to ground him before he collapsed into a writhing wreck. It had certainly been a while since anyone had done  _this_ to him. He whimpered with every indulgent motion of Eric's tongue.

Hands still squeezing his ass, Eric relented but Kyle could still feel him panting against his cheek.

"You like that?" Eric asked.

Kyle nodded wordlessly, mouth hanging open and eyes squeezed shut. He realised he hadn't exactly answered Eric's question, and that Eric probably wasn't going to continue until he heard him say it.

"Yes..." he admitted, laced with a moan.

Pleased, Eric easily slid his tongue back inside him again. Kyle writhed as his tongue rocked in and out, one hand leaving his ass to reach around and grasp his cock.

" _Oh fuck, yes_..." he whispered into the sheets, shoulders falling in surrender.

Soon, Eric's face was buried in his ass, tongue fucking Kyle so fast that stars were soaring in his hazy vision and unintelligible cries were pouring from his mouth. If Eric wasn't squeezing the base of his cock in a vice grip he could've easily come all over the sheets. In the back of his lust-addled mind, Kyle wondered if Eric was ever going to let him come and if he could even handle how overwhelming his orgasm would be when he finally reached it. Then, as cruelly as he released Kyle before, he did so again, slipping his tongue out of Kyle's opening and sitting up. Kyle whinged, bemused.

"Lube?" Eric asked, with a loud, stinging smack to Kyle's ass.

Kyle turned his head, quivering, and gulping for air. He could barely think, let alone speak.

"Um, the nightstand on your right..." he managed to reply breathlessly.

He rolled over onto his back as Eric searched the nightstand for lube. The ceiling seemed to swirl in his vision, and he couldn't stop twitching. It seemed like every nerve ending in his body was kicking and screaming in protest, demanding to know what was taking so long. Never had a lover denied Kyle like this for so long before. In some buried masochistic way he didn't want to dwell on, he kind of liked it. As fast and rough as Eric had been with him tonight, he had also been slow and indulgent, teasingly (and infuriatingly so). There was no rush, or haste. Eric wanted Kyle to savour it. He was confident enough to know that this momentous, incredible climax was worth waiting for, and that he could deliver on it. Kyle had to smile then, skin burning against the sheets in a self-satisfied writhe. Still, he couldn't help but pity his sore, purpled cock.

"Hey." Eric's voiced pulled him out of his thoughts.

Kyle saw him smiling beside his bed, the tub of lube in hand.

"Catch," he said, before tossing it in Kyle's direction.

Kyle held out his hands and caught it, shifting as Eric sat down beside him on the bed.

"You can do the honours..." he smiled, lying flat on his back and crossing his arms under his head.

Kyle glanced between Eric and the lube in his hands, and grinned. Getting up on wobbly knees, he kept his eyes trained on Eric's wicked, intrigued face before he straddled him. From this rather lofty height, which Kyle had so far been unaccustomed to, he was able to absorb every delectable detail of having Eric lying between his legs. He was warmed by the fire of Eric's smouldering irises, was emboldened by the hitch of Eric's breath and his Adam's apple bobbing in his throat as he coated his fingers with lube. He wondered if this was how Eric felt when he pinned him to the mattress, if that inspired his breath-stealing confidence.

Eric's threadbare breath steadied him as he lowered his hand between his thighs, biting his lip before he slid the pad of his fingertip over his opening. It was already slick from Eric's mouth, and Kyle slowly pushed his finger in. He whined, dropping the lube in his free hand on the bed, but soon pushed a second finger in. He gasped and groaned as he did so, and he felt Eric shift beneath him, his hands gently travelling up his thighs and stroking him. When he blinked his searing eyes open, he saw Eric transfixed on his hand and mouth agape. His cock twitched at the sight, a mysterious confidence surging through him. He threw his head back and began to finger himself in earnest, surrendering to the friction, and Eric's desire. He squeezed his eyes shut, and he moaned, long and loud.

As he began to quicken his propulsions - whimpering with every tiny thrust of his fingers - Kyle felt Eric shift beneath him with a hungry, impatient huff.

"Ready?"

Kyle opened his eyes at the question, and saw Eric rolling a condom over his cock. His mouth grew heavy, due to his heart leaping into his throat at the sight. He nodded, slowly sliding his fingers out with another soft whine. Eric's hips bucked, meeting Kyle's wet hand as he wrapped his fingers around his cock. He jerked him off in slow, gentle motions as he positioned himself, and Eric's hand took over at the base when Kyle's opening met the head of his cock. A shaky desperate moan fell from Eric's lips, and Kyle gasped and cried out, reaching for the headboard to steady himself as his opening was stretched.

He was biting his lip so hard as he took more of Eric's cock that he feared blood would soon be running down his chin. Eric lifted his hips, eager to have Kyle balls deep. A long, broken cry escaped from Kyle's mouth when Eric found his prostate, barely noticing when those familiar strong hands grabbed his cheeks and spread them. Eric groaned, a pleased pink flush crawling up his chest and his eyes alight.

"Fuck yeah, that's it, Kyle..." he breathed out, when Kyle was fully seated on his cock.

Kyle began to fuck himself slowly, easing himself in when his thighs were shaking and little white stars were still raining in his vision. Eric's every breath was laced with a short, pleased groan, and he soon lifted his hips to thrust into Kyle, matching his tempo. Kyle squeezed his eyes shut tighter, lips parting in a shaky cry. In his hazy mind there was a flash of memory, of Kyle walking in on Eric lifting weights, of Eric carrying him, of Eric throwing his opponents to the ground like it was nothing, like it was easy, done without a second thought.

" _Unnh_ , I... I, I fucking love how strong you are..."

The headboard soon thumped against the wall in time with every fast, hard roll of Kyle's hips and Eric's deft thrusts. It competed with the groans and short cries that punctuated every thrust, that had every exhausted, panting breath glinting with relentless desire.

"Oh sh-shit, you look so fucking good..." Eric managed to get out. "You feel fucking amazing...  _aaah fuck_..."

Kyle's eyes flew open and a strangled cry leapt out of his mouth when Eric grabbed his bouncing, throbbing cock, his hand a blur as he jerked him off. He aligned his hips in time with Eric's hand, and every second beat he found his prostate. Kyle's eyes rolled back as his balls drew tight and heavy.

" _Aaah! Aaaah!"_ he sobbed when he finally came, lurching forward until he felt like he could collapse into Eric's chest.

He noticed the cum that landed on Eric's belly, before he felt Eric grab his forearm and tug him down. They were face-to-face, so close that Kyle could feel the heat on Eric's cheeks and could hardly distinguish his features. His fingers fisted his sweaty curls and he kissed Kyle's burning lips so hard, that he imagined both their lips would be crushed then whey separated.

"Don't stop..." Eric pleaded.

Kyle shook his head. He couldn't deny him that. He cupped Eric's glistening face and captured his flushed mouth in a kiss, bouncing on his cock and riding his tremendous orgasm out with Eric still inside him. He gasped into Kyle's mouth, and a shiver rolled down his spine despite the heat. Their foreheads were pressed together, and Kyle shared Eric's bracing breaths. He arched into Kyle so suddenly, that he choked on a gasp.

" _Aaah!"_ Eric cried, stiffening and almost pulling Kyle's hair from the roots when he came. " _Aaah, fuck..."_

He soon softened, stroking and fingering Kyle's curls apologetically. Kyle whimpered at the tentative touch and tender pressure, and buried his face in Eric's shoulder. As they both collected their breaths, Kyle's eyelids begin to droop like there were anvils at his lashes. He could've gladly fallen asleep atop Eric's wide, heaving chest, with his cock still inside him.

Eric turned his head, sending another shiver down Kyle's spine when his humid, glistening breath filled his ear.

"You know, this could get addictive..." he said, and Kyle could feel his lips stretching into a smile against his ear.

Kyle snickered, smiling into his shoulder.

"There are worse things..." he replied.

Eric chuckled in agreement, and Kyle could feel the vibrations of the contented, lovely sound in Eric's chest. He nodded, reaching up a little to inhale the scent of Kyle's hair, and bury a kiss in his curls.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A couple of apologies. One, I'm sorry this chapter is so late. Two, I'm sorry this chapter is so short. More apologies to come at the end of the fic, pfft! But I hope you guys enjoy, no matter how late and short this chapter may be!

Kyle had become accustomed to waking up to the sound of his phone's shrill, unforgiving alarm, not gentle snoring in his ear. He stirred, bleary eyes blinking open and when he tried to roll over he met with a wide, soft chest. Eric's arm was draped over his middle, his chubby cheek squished against the pillow. Kyle froze, even though they were sleeping in his apartment, he felt like  _he_  was intruding. It was unusual to see Eric, passionate, and vivacious, and cocky, and always with an answer in his pocket, now quiet, oblivious,  _peaceful_. But it was heartening too, when Kyle realised that perhaps not many people in Eric's life got to see him like that. Maybe some past lovers, but Kyle didn't like to think about them. Still, a lazy smile stretched across his face, privileged to glimpse such an endearing sight. Rolling over again, with his back pressed to Eric's chest, he was still smiling when his eyelids started to drift shut.

But that smile soon vanished when his phone started to buzz. Grumbling, Kyle reached over to pick the phone up from his nightstand. He couldn't afford to miss any calls relating to the team, no matter how nice it felt to lay in bed with their fullback. Instead, it was a video call from Ike, another person who he hated to let down. He never missed Ike's calls, and it was sure to draw suspicion if he did. Suspicion he couldn't afford. Wide awake immediately, Kyle reached for his boxers discarded on the floor as the phone continued to ring. He slipped them on, before hurrying over to his dresser and putting on the first crinkled t-shirt he could find. He was panting when he finally accepted Ike's call, although he guessed he was sweating in panic rather than exertion.

"Hey, man!" Ike grinned, as breezy as Kyle wished he could be.

"Uh, h-h-hey Ike," he replied, hating how he sounded. He gulped, hoping it would steady his breath and his voice. "What's up?"

"Nothing much, just wanted to congratulate you on the game yesterday. You had us all worried for a minute, it got real tense in the fourth quarter."

Kyle was nodding along, trying to pay attention and keep his eyes fixed on the screen when they so wanted to wander over to his bed. It was hard to focus when his mind was being assaulted by awful visions of Eric waking up any minute and their cover being spectacularly blown, and how hideously awkward it would be.

"Yeah, thanks," Kyle replied, coughing into his fist. "They, uh, didn't let me down..."

"They haven't let you down all season, man!" Ike grinned. "Your first year as owner and you're on one hell of a winning streak!" his smile wavered, and his eyebrows furrowed. "Uhh... are you okay?"

"What? Yeah, I'm fine. Why do you ask?"

Ike shrugged.

"I don't know, you just seem a little on edge," he replied. "Like, preoccupied or something. Is now a bad time?"

Kyle could've collapsed in relief. He had an out.

"Actually, Ike, uh-"

Kyle was interrupted by a loud yawn. The noise filled the room like icy water rushing into a sinking ship, and Kyle was frozen. Eric, meanwhile, was sat up, leisurely stretching his arms.

"Morning..." he said, voice hoarse with sleep as he rubbed his eyes.

Kyle glared over his phone, it was now shaking in his slick palms.

"What are you doing over there?" Eric asked, brow creased.

Gritting his teeth and lowering his phone where Ike couldn't see his face, he shook his head at Eric, wide-eyed. Eric blinked, his brow no longer crinkled with confusion, and nodded.

"Umm... Kyle?"

In his panic, he had almost forgotten Ike was still there. He lifted his phone to his face once more, and saw Ike staring at him hard, his own eyebrows knitted together.

"Who was that you were talking to?"

"Nothing! I-I-I mean, no one!"

"Oh..." Ike murmured, before a smile stretched across his face. He laughed, quickly covering his mouth. "Oh, dude, did you hook up with someone last night?"

"What?!" Kyle exclaimed, far too shrill.

He saw Eric grinning, flushed and delighted, so obviously revelling in this. If Eric could enjoy this, then surely Kyle could just admit to it? Play along? What choice did he have?

"Oh, uh... yeah," he nodded. A smile was pulling at the corners of his mouth. "Yeah, I did. I have, um..."

"It's cool, man." Ike chuckled, waving him off. "I'm just sorry I interrupted. I'll leave you alone."

Kyle shook his head, still a little flustered.

"Don't apologise, Ike, really, it's fine."

"I'll call you later. Congrats again, dude." He smiled. "That final minute was just something else!"

"Sure was..." Kyle agreed, succumbing to the smile dying to spread across his face.

"That Eric Cartman may be an asshole, but he's a hell of player!"

His smile was soon extinguished. He prickled from head to toe in embarrassment, but soon heard Eric chuckling to himself.

"Y-y-yeah, I guess," Kyle replied, fidgeting. "Talk to you soon, Ike."

"Bye!" Ike said, hanging up without another word.

Kyle sighed, his shoulders slumped and his head thrown back against the wall. He stood there for a few minutes with his eyes closed as he tried to steady his breathing, tried to cool down when he was sure he was still an unflattering shade of pink. His eyes opened at the sound of Eric's laughter, and it was too contagious and somewhat comforting not to crack a smile at.

"God, Eric, I'm so sorry..."

Eric shrugged, with a wide, amused grin.

"It's cool. He wouldn't be the first person to call me an asshole."

Kyle chuckled in helpless agreement and rolled his eyes. Sighing once more, Eric's bright eyes and wicked grin coaxed him back to bed. He flopped down beside him, and Eric joined him on the pillows.

"Who was that, anyway?"

"My brother. He's, uh, in college in California so we try to talk every week."

Eric hummed, a short snicker like such a pact between siblings was unusual.

"Fuck," he said with a sigh, staring up at the ceiling. "I can't remember the last time I talked to my brother..."

Kyle blinked at the mention of Eric's brother. It was certainly a first, and he certainly wasn't expecting such an admission.

"Why?" he asked, out of his mouth before he could stop it.

Still, Eric had heard it. He turned his head, arching an eyebrow at Kyle.

Despite how burning his curiosity was, it couldn't take precedence over Eric's comfort, especially when they were still rather recent presences in each other's lives even after everything they had shared so far.

"I mean, uh..."

Eric's eyes wandered to the foot of the bed, but not before Kyle saw his gaze harden. It wasn't bitter, but guarded, not inspiring much hope in Kyle that Eric would share more.

"S-s-sorry," Kyle continued. "I shouldn't have asked but-"

"It's fine," Eric cut in shortly.

Frowning, Kyle shifted a little closer.

"You can tell me, if you want?"

Eric's shoulders fell, a near silent conflicted breath leaving his lips.

"No..." he murmured, shaking his head. "No, I just..." he met Kyle's eyes again, and he stared softly, imploringly. "It's not a big deal, Kyle, really. We've just never got on, we've never been close... it's nothing. I'm cool with it."

Eric smiled tightly, and Kyle nodded in acquiescence if only to make him feel better. It seemed this particular subject smothered all conversation, or rather infected it. Only a few words spoken before it was killed again. It was not a silence Kyle was used to with Eric. He was used to flirtatious, electric, sultry silences that were soaked in desire, and were brimming with anticipation. He was even used to fiery silences that frothed with words left un-yelled. But he could never have imagined a silence as stifled as this. When they had vowed to keep their relationship so casual Kyle couldn't have anticipated it. Just like that, a new term to their arrangement was disclosed. Kisses, and beds could be shared, it seemed, but not fractious family histories. Kyle wasn't sure if it was a term he could agree with.

* * *

It was an unusually quiet breakfast eaten quickly, and Kyle felt that Eric was buried so deep in his thoughts he couldn't reach him. Thinking about matters, Kyle guessed, he would never know about. He had no idea how to clear the air, or lift the pensive fog from Eric's eyes. He was actually relieved when Eric announced he was leaving, but it was a bittersweet relief. The kind of relief you could only appreciate following an exchange or encounter that was particularly painful.

"Hey, have you seen my jacket?" Eric asked as Kyle, for the sake of being polite, walked him to the door.

"Yeah, it should be..."

The sentence drifted off as Kyle wandered over to the couch, remembering where he had tugged the jacket off Eric's shoulders and discarded it on the floor. There it still lay, slumped on the carpet.

"Here," he said, handing it to Eric.

He smiled, and Kyle's breath caught on the wicked glint in his eyes, delighted at its reappearance. With a tug, Eric pulled Kyle to his lips, one hand sliding into his still bed-mussed hair, tilting his head to deepen their mouths' clasp. But the kiss crumbled when Kyle couldn't help but smirk, and pulled back when he remembered something.

"Wait, wait, I haven't-"

"God damn it, Kyle, I don't fucking care," Eric interrupted, low and husky, and staring at Kyle's mouth.

Kyle chuckled, convinced, and reached up to connect their lips again. His hands wandered up Eric's shirt and pulled at the material, the sleeves straining between his eager fingers.

"So, I'll, uh, see you at practice later?" Eric asked when they finally relinquished each other.

His tone was soft, and searching for an affirmative. Still drawn into his hypnotic golden eyes, and the press of his lips still fresh, Kyle wanted to give him that affirmative. He nodded.

"Sure..." he smiled, forgetting himself. He closed his eyes and shook his head. "I mean, no! No, sorry, I won't be there. I, uh, have a meeting with the board of our charity, and President Principal..." He interrupted himself with an exasperated chuckle. He rolled his eyes. "God, I still can't say his name with a straight face..."

"Is it because he has the stupidest name in history or because he's such an obnoxious tool that if you didn't laugh you'd punch him in the mouth?" Eric asked, putting his jacket on.

Kyle laughed despite his better - professional - instincts.

"Yeah, he's a little intense..."

"A little?" Eric replied, eyebrows raised incredulously. "He's the most aggressive hippie I've ever had the misfortune to meet."

Suddenly, Eric adopted President Principal's defensive, alpha-male stance. One foot in front of the other, body tilted, and arms raised ever so slightly from his sides and frozen, as if ready to tackle anybody thinking about making an offensive, derogatory comment to the ground. He tightened his upper lip, almost crinkled to reveal his teeth. There was a small dent in his brow, and his alert stare was hardened. Kyle laughed so hard he snorted, and he clamped a hand over his mouth to smother his chuckles.

" _You assholes better buy our recyclable Mustangs beer cups or I'll shove those motherfuckers so far down your throat you'll be choking on my fucking watch, bro!"_

However, it was useless trying to contain his laughter at Eric's spot-on impression. Eric chuckled, delighted as he watched Kyle laugh.

"What the hell does P.C. even stand for, anyway?" he asked.

"It's something, like, Phil Collin..."

"Seriously?"

Kyle nodded, still chuckling.

"I'm pretty sure," he replied, he wouldn't have forgotten a name as silly as that.

Eric shook his head, tucking his hands into his pockets as he laughed to himself.

"Oh, man... as if he couldn't get more ridiculous."

"I know," Kyle replied with a groan. "Plus, it's our first meeting with the board since I was appointed as owner, and the first meeting with the board since he was elected president so it needs to go well-"

"Come on, you're a natural," Eric cut in, slipping one hand out of his pocket to clap Kyle's shoulder. "You'll be great. What's the charity, anyway?"

Kyle smiled, sheepish, and appreciative.

"The ' D.M.T.I.P.C.E.'" he replied.

"The huh?"

"The ' Denver Mustangs Trust for Infants with Prenatal Cocaine Exposure.'"

"Catchy," Eric replied, nodding. "So... it's a charity for crack babies?"

Kyle rolled his eyes, and narrowed them at Eric.

"While that is a very derogatory way to put it... yes, it is." He sighed. "It's a cause I've always been passionate about, ever since I volunteered at the NICU in college."

Eric arched his eyebrow, and he smiled.

"What did you study?"

"Medicine," Kyle replied. "I was all set to go to medical school but... I chose to help my dad run the team. The Mustangs always come first. It's what I was meant to do."

Kyle always thought the more times he said that, the less it would sting and the more he would start to believe it.

* * *

With his mocking of President Principal it were as though Eric had broken the professional seal Kyle had tried hard to maintain when working so closely with someone so outlandish and ridiculous. One smile cracked, one laugh quickly clamped by a scolding hand, and now Kyle was pursing his lips and avoiding the glass of water on the boardroom table lest Eric's impression enter his mind and he sprayed it all over his notes.

"... And will the team be in attendance for the ribbon cutting ceremony as well as the gala?" Miss Perry, a hospital board member and one of the most generous donators to the NICU, asked.

Despite her generosity, she only flooded the hospital with such wealth after shrewdly examining every detail of every proposal brought to her. Kyle was beyond grateful that she had seen the specialised wing for the infants with PCE as a worthwhile cause.

"Oh totally, ma'am," President Principal replied.

Kyle was sure tears were pricking his eyes as he swallowed yet another suppressed laugh. He nodded.

"Um, yes, they'll all be in attendance."

"Excellent!" Mrs Horton, the CEO of the D.M.T.I.P.C.E. grinned. "It's wonderful press for the charity-"

" _And_  for the hospital..." the hospital's Chief of Medicine, Doctor Roberts, noted.

"Speaking of press, I've been thinking an even greater publicity opportunity would be to focus on Eric Cartman," Bebe Stevens, the head of the Denver Mustangs' PR piped up. Kyle was indebted to her for not only sticking with the team during the PR nightmare that was the summer, but maintaining a composure he was undeniably envious of. "Perhaps invite him to cut the ribbon? Of course, every team member is valuable to drawing in interest and the more players we see in the papers the better, but since Eric is the newest player, and the most talked about in the AFA right now we really should make use of his star power."

The room was silent with agreement and cursory glances of approval, heads gently bobbing.

"Sounds great to me," Doctor Roberts eventually replied.

"Me too," Mrs Horton added. "It's a grand idea! Kyle, President Principal, what do you think?"

They both glanced at each other and nodded.

"We'll certainly have a conversation with Eric and get back to you as soon as possible, but I see no reason why he would turn this opportunity down," Kyle replied.

"Wonderful!" Mrs Horton grinned, clapping her hands together and resting them under her chin. She glanced around the table. "And I think we're done for today, yes? No more items on the agenda?"

Bebe flicked through her notes, and her blond curls bounced as she shook her head.

"Nope, that's pretty much it," she replied.

Kyle stood up, smoothing his tie.

"Well, thank you for coming everyone."

After doling out the obligatory handshakes as everybody made their exit, Kyle was alone in the boardroom when he pulled his phoned out of his pocket and texted Eric.

" _We want you to cut the ribbon at the opening of the new NICU wing. Interested?"_

Kyle was gathering his notes when his phone buzzed on the table.

" _Sure. Anything for a good cause."_

Kyle grinned, biting his lip to control his delight even though Eric's reply was coated in saccharin.

" _Anything to make you look good, you mean?"_

" _Yeah, that's what I said,"_ Eric replied. " _A good cause."_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So there's a couple of reasons why this chapter took so long to get out. Firstly, is that I've just started a new job and that's taking up a lot of time and energy for me at the moment. Secondly... well, I hate to say it (but it's good to be honest) but I'm sort of losing a lot of momentum, and spark, and motivation for this story. Maybe it's because I have been preoccupied with other things, have taken too long a break, or because I have got other fic ideas that I'm excited about but am reluctant to start right now when this one is still incomplete. Although I have pretty much every detail of this story planned out, its future is a little uncertain right now. I'm so sorry. I don't want to let you guys down, because you've been so supportive and patient! I appreciate that so much, as well as all the lovely, inspiring feedback! I'm trying not to think too far ahead with this story, because I honestly don't know how I'm going to proceed with it for now. But if you could be patient with me, I would really appreciate it. And thank you so much again! For reading, leaving kudos, subscribing, and commenting. You're all brilliant.


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